Dragon Whisperer
by Fizzlemcschnizzle
Summary: A young warrior of the Berserker tribe, Skuf the Silent, has always been unusual. A mute from birth. A prodigy with the sword. An unofficial uncle of a crazy orphan. Shorter than Berk's heir by a hair. That's what they all say about him because that's what they know. What they don't say is that he talks to dragons. And they talk back.
1. First Contact

A young warrior of the Berserker tribe, Skuf the Silent, has always been unusual. A mute from birth. A prodigy with the sword. An unofficial uncle of a crazy orphan. Shorter than Berk's heir by a hair.

That's what they all say about him because that's what they know. What they don't say is that he talks to dragons.

And they talk _back_.

 **A/N:**  
This first chapter was inspired by that one Race to the Edge episode where the Berserker tribe lands on Berk to sign a peace treaty. I, uhhh… took a little tangent. Said tangent turned into my first story ever written. Prequel to Dragons 101.

 **Obligatory Disclaimer:**  
First, I'd like to ask why in Odin's name does everyone have one of these disclaimers in their stories? Their _free_ stories worth zero dinero. Also, why I am breaking down under peer pressure to include this out of fear of some lawsuit I know without a doubt would never even be threatened by a company that is too busy making infinite sequels for infinite money? Anyway, I don't own HTTYD. Toothless does. Got them all wrapped around his little claw.

* * *

 **1 - First Contact**

Skuf the Silent casually ducked under a branch as he slowly, silently, crept through the forest. The sliver of a crescent moon played hide-and-seek with the clouds in the dead of night, but there was still enough light to make out the obstacles... most of the time. It was enough for this special mission to capture a dragon. Not just any dragon, but a very elusive type, thought to be the last of its kind, called the Night Fury. Of the thirty warriors in his hunting party, Skuf was the most critical, even though he was no dragon hunter.

Progress was slow, difficult, and sometimes painful as he and his fellow warriors cautiously advanced through the forest. An occasional curse to a god of choice could be heard hissing out in a whisper as somebody stumbled or was hit in the face by the most inconsiderate branches and brambles. Traveling almost blind like this slowed their progress, but no torches would be lit when they could not risk detection by anyone - or any _thing_ \- because stealth was critical.

Skuf barely had to duck to pass under a branch. That same branch proceeded to smack a face behind him, drawing out a curse to Loki, who mischievously put it there for just that purpose. As the branch-to-face contact increased, annoyed glares were cast at Skuf, which only resulted in more scrapes. Such was one of the benefits of being short.

Even at twenty years old, Skuf's frame stood a head below the average Viking. At first glance, one might appraise him as a weak or inferior swordfighter, but such people would quickly learn a lesson in humility. He wasn't scrawny, but he wasn't stocky, either. His upbringing in sword fighting as a warrior produced a body with enough strength to take and dish relatively heavy blows but quick enough to just as easily dodge them.

To complement his fighting technique, Skuf always opted for a lighter leather outfit instead of the heavy standard issue gambeson or the fancy iron scale mail most warriors in his tribe wore. When it was issued, he had even taken the time to scrape and fatigue the leather to make it more supple in key spots, like the inside of the elbows, knees, and groin, to provide greater freedom of movement. The major arteries were still protected, though, with an extra layer of boiled leather sewn along the inside of the arms and legs.

Like most Viking tribes, the general mindset of his fellow Berserker warriors was to favor strength and durability. Skuf, on the other hand, has learned that speed and agility made his fighting abilities shine. Let the brutes grunt as they swing large broadswords and battleaxes through thin air - it is a song he loves to hear. The tune _he_ sings is the silent slices and jabs at exposed areas when the opportunity presents itself.

Although the wiry Skuf was the most critical key to this dragon hunt, the company of soldiers was led by none other than the power-hungry tyrant, Dagur the Deranged. Or, "Your Derangedness", for those who seek to flatter him. In Skuf's opinion, there was no greater representation of all that is evil in a person. Dagur's thirst for power has led to knives in the backs of good men as he played them against each other, and then a coup to kill his own father and tribe chief, Oswald the Agreeable. Many good people died in this greedy bastard's ascension to power.

Ever since Dagur took over his latest victim's position as chief of the Berserker tribe, Skuf has been looking for an opportunity to set things right. This very moment may have seemed like just the ideal time. He could simply take a casual step left around that white pine, draw his blade, and plunge it into martyrdom.

No, that would not accomplish anything. Not now. An unhealthy and immoral thirst for power for its own sake was the disease and it has spread. Dagur was just the host body and Skuf wanted the cure, not to just remove the boil. The real disease was not the madman himself, but the madness that drove him.

At least, that was the more noble angle of Skuf's own schedule.

In his grab for power, Dagur had persuaded a couple friendly tribes to join him in seeking out ways to control the dragons and build a dragon army. After those scaley beasts suddenly ceased their raids over a year ago, they seemed to avoid contact with Vikings. However, they still existed and could be found on the islands around the Archipelago, and if they could be found, they could be captured, trained, conditioned, controlled. If dragons were so powerful, then to control them would be to control great power.

After all, what else would a greedy tyrant ever want besides _more_ power over others?

Tonight, the hunt was focused on a particular key to that power. Two weeks ago, Skuf had learned that the enemy tribe on Berk, the Hairy Hooligans, had discovered how to harness - literally - this power. Well, they weren't _actually_ declared as an enemy tribe. In fact, Skuf's first visit to Berk was as an escort for Dagur on a visit to sign a peace treaty with the Hooligan chieftain, Stoick the Vast.

Dagur was eager to sign the peace treaty, but not for the political reasons the Hooligans assumed. They were beneath the Berserkers, in Dagur's eyes, because they have been content to simply protect their main island and the small ones surrounding it without any conquest. Such contentment simply was not very Viking-like. Well, that's what Dagur always _said_. The unspoken motive was that allies at peace with their neighbors could be used to help conquer other tribes before betraying their trust.

Skuf has seen too much to doubt that what Dagur did with individuals in his ascension to power, he will attempt to do with whole tribes. When he makes a mistake, though, it wouldn't be Dagur and his backstabbers who will pay the price, but all of the Berserker tribe.

As the Hooligan chief showed them around the village, Skuf noticed certain things that he kept to himself. Whenever the scaly beasts were brought up in conversation, the weather instantly became a very fascinating topic. Dagur was annoyed, but Skuf knew without a doubt that they were hiding something. This led him to conclude that they have figured it all out. The Hairy Hooligan tribe has figured out how to coexist with dragons, maybe even tame them.

That visit had concluded with a dragon attack. The Berserker tribe knew how to handle dragons, but they were not targeted by dragon raids as heavily as most other tribes in the area. As a result, their instinct was to run back to their ships as they were less prepared to handle dragons than the ax-wielding Berkian behemoths.

As if to make a point about their size, their chieftain grabbed the tail of a Gronckle that had tackled a Berserker warrior and casually flung the dragon to the side. However, the sly beast just skipped across the ground on its feet and buzzed its bee-like wings to fly to safety.

At one point, a black-scaled Night Fury pounced on a fish bone of a boy that Dagur has taken a strange interest in. That Viking, Hiccup, shouted for Dagur to run and save himself as the beast mauled him mercilessly. Though Hiccup was the exact opposite of his massive and fierce father, he bravely tangled with the offspring of lightning and death itself as the Berserkers made a hasty retreat.

Skuf tried to hide his grin as he ran away with Dagur. He knew better. He could talk to dragons.

And they could talk _back_.

He could recognize the caution the dragons employed when shooting a Hooligan's shield, taking careful aim to avoid any actual injury. He could feel the relief of the Hooligans as the dragons shot fire at, but always missed, any Viking they saw. He could hear the concern as the Night Fury tackled Hiccup, acting as if it was struggling to wrestle with the puny boy, but taking care to prevent any harm.

 _You're a terrible actor_ , Skuf thought to himself as he watched the Night Fury "attack" the little fish bone kid. The dragon jerked its head up, twitching its ears as if it heard something and Skuf realized that he probably projected that thought loud enough to be heard.

Such was the basis for his ulterior motives. After all, who else could talk to dragons in the same, special way that dragons talk to each other?

Well, technically, he couldn't "talk" at all.

Being born with malformed vocal cords certainly presented drawbacks. For his entire life, Skuf could never speak, hum, or even grunt. On the plus side, his parents were pleased with the silent crying when he was a baby. For his lack of speaking, he was very good at _listening_. He could hear the words that were not spoken and the fact that dragons could hear _his_ unspoken words gave him a particular affinity towards the scaled beasts. The more he heard, the more natural it became to both hear and project thoughts. The more he communed with them, the more clear it became that nobody knew the first thing about them.

Dragons lacked any spoken language. In fact, as Skuf learned in his conversations with dragons on Berserker Island, they don't even understand the concept of words in the first place. Forming a sentence to write or speak is a foreign, unnatural, and, well, _stupid_ idea in their eyes. Instead of forming words, why not project the thoughts the words are supposed to represent?

Images could be seen. Sounds could be heard. Pain could be felt. Memories could be experienced by others. Over time, Skuf developed his ability to hear these projected thoughts.

"You're awfully quiet, tonight," Dagur whispered as they crept onward through the tangle of trees, giggling at his own joke.

Skuf - the silent - shook his musings out of his head. Sparing a glance at the devil at his side, he took note of his surroundings, forcing himself to focus on the present. Winter was transitioning into Spring and this particular area did not have many evergreens. The glimpses of scenery afforded by the intermittent moon and starlight above revealed nothing more than a loose sea of brown sticks. The change in weather and scenery made Berk seem like a completely different island than Skuf's previous visit two weeks ago. A chain of heavy rainstorms over the past couple days had reduced all the snow and dead leaves to a sodden mush.

"Ya got any tingling sense of dragons nearby, oh whisperer of dragons?" Dagur asked

Skuf shook his head. He was pretty sure Dagur did not know that he could hear dragons, but it was common knowledge on Berserker island that the caged dragons seemed to be calmer and more cooperative with the mute around. In all reality, his role on this mission was only as a good luck charm rabbit's foot for when they find a dragon… in _their_ eyes. They called him the dragon whisperer, but that was more in mocking jest than anything else. While he could get the dragons on his island to cooperate by reasoning with them and showing his good intent, he has also worked to hide his ability by receiving bruises and scratches from the beasts - at his own request.

He could tell those dragons were not stupid animals. Whether they were as intelligent as men was a moot point. They could love, hate, plead, and show contempt or mercy. They could organize their thoughts to communicate complex ideas to each other. A dragon could feel joy and remorse and express such feelings in a way much more compelling than any animal, or even any Viking for that matter, because they pour out their raw impressions and emotions.

That was why Dagur could never be allowed to succeed, why somebody _must_ thwart any attempts at capturing and manipulating dragons. This is why dragons should not be made into slaves.

Skuf cringed at the realization that he had elevated dragons above humans in his mind. His parents had raised him to be a man of integrity, but while there have always been human slaves on Berserker Island, the idea of dragons made into slaves seemed even more wrong for some reason. The rock-eating, lava-spewing Gronckles caged and used for smelting iron ore was already an injustice, but if someone found a way to break down a dragon's spirit and turn it into a mindless killing machine...

 _But this is different,_ Skuf told himself _. I'm unique in being able to hear the dragons talk, so it's alright if I focus on them. I'm justified in focusing on the dragons, right?_

 _Right?_

It was all so complicated. Skuf counted himself very fortunate to have been omitted from any raiding expeditions in his life so far. Aside from the peace treaty visit two weeks ago, this mission to capture the Night Fury was his first militant assignment off of his home island.

However, he could take advantage of his ability and position to the end of leading Dagur astray on this little hunt. Dagur knew Skuf to be some sort of party trick dragon whisperer, but that was it. Skuf really wanted to learn more about these dragons and the Hooligans who, he could tell, could cooperate with the beasts.

Such an notion was a child's dream, a phase everyone would pass through in their youth, just like having an invisible friend to talk to. Cooperation between beast and man doesn't necessarily mean that Vikings ride dragons, but what if they did? It would be almost too amazing to believe, but he was sure that there was cooperation between the Vikings here and the dragons. Where there was cooperation, there must be trust.

It was a common enough saying. _Trust is the mother of cooperation. Deception is the kiss of death._

How could dragons and Vikings get to a point of trusting each other? Sure, the dragons at home would be more cooperative with the dragon whisperer than anyone else, but that was a special case. He could actually have conversations with them. Sure, they also loved him for the extra bits of fish or meat he would sneak to them, but how would a Hooligan simply see a dragon, approach it, and gain its trust. Maybe it was the _other_ way around? Could Berk be full of dragon whisperers?

Up ahead, a warrior spotted a light weakly flickering through the forest and pointed it out to Dagur. The light wandered closer and they saw it was a torch carried by a lone Viking. Determined to continue the hunt, Dagur ordered his men to continue searching while he handled the Hooligan alone. He separated himself from the rest and stalked his target, wrapping his fingers around the handle of his arming sword. The poor thing wouldn't even get out a squeak before dying.

Skuf's breath hitched as he recognized that man with the torch. Hardly a man, but a boy. It was that little Hiccup - and Dagur was about to kill him!

This could not be allowed. In an instant, Skuf decided this diminutive boy was key in understanding this dragon situation. But even if he could stop Dagur in time, how would he escape with the kid when there were almost thirty other Vikings who would stop _him_?

Skuf subtly reached for the dagger at his waist and encroached forward under the pretense of curiosity. He made up his mind in an instant. He would never get a chance like this again. Maybe, just maybe, he could stick Dagur in the back, send the kid running, evade his comrades in the forest, and gain favor with Berk to learn how they can cooperate with dragons.

 _Nothing ventured, nothing gained._

The air felt charged with energy. Skuf could feel anger that wasn't his. He tensed up, ready to spring, half a thought away from yanking his dagger out of its sheath and springing into action. However, his breath caught in his throat when he saw Dagur, sword halfway out of its scabbard, thrust it back in. The hilt made a soft slapping sound against the leather-encased wood, drawing Hiccup's attention with a sudden gasp. Dagur simply strode forward, hands waving expressively as he shouted a greeting.

Skuf fought for strength as his knees threatened to buckle from relief. He could sense the struggle to fight down the boiling rage that threatened to override rational thought. He had more time to think of something.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He tried to put on an expression of indifference as his unit commander dragged him back towards the others, but shock and intrigue quickly took over as he caught a glimpse of a pair of acid-green dots in the dark woods. Before he could even tell whether it was just his imagination, those dots blinked out of existence and Skuf could have sworn he saw a shadow moving through the darkness. Everyone followed his gaze but shrugged at the emptiness that greeted them.

It all clicked into place. Those glowing dots, the charge in the air that had now dissipated since Dagur put his sword away… somebody was watching them. Or some _thing_.

Behind him, Dagur was talking quite loudly, arms waving enthusiastically as he approached a very befuddled Hiccup.

"Hiccup? You're alive! I was worried the Night Fury would _tear you to shreds_ a couple weeks ago, but you were all like 'Go! Save yourself, Dagur! You owe it to your people!' What happened to that dragon, anyway?"

 _I bet Hiccup ended up patting it on the head and giving it a fish. Maybe he added an "atta boy, Night Fury!"_

Skuf rolled his eyes as he walked away with the rest of his unit. His unit commander, Throst, ordered everyone to split up into pairs and spread out to cover more ground. They all had a horn to sound out if they ran into trouble, but that was to be used _only_ if the Night Fury was found. Someone suggested that splitting up like this would make them too vulnerable against a dragon as black as night, but he was quickly shamed to silence.

Even if he had a voice to speak in objection, Skuf would have held his peace. A quick conversation with a dragon on Berserker Island before heading out confirmed his suspicion. On a dark night, the Night Fury would be seen only when it desires to be seen. This species was very reclusive and would rather avoid a fight than start one. However, if there is some threat to itself, its mate, or its hatchlings, it would fight tooth and claw until its heart stopped beating.

As Skuf and the fellow soldier in his pair, Sod, patrolled through the forest, he felt something familiar. Well, maybe not _felt_. Confining projected thoughts to the senses always felt like a run over loose sand. Whether it was felt or heard or smelled or whatever, it reminded him of the projected thoughts he had picked up during that dragon attack from the peace treaty mission. Every mind has its own "scent", so every projected thought has a certain unique signature for who was projecting it.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of red disappeared into the depths of the trees. Here, the woods were thick with Pine, Spruce, and Fir, so Skuf was able to slip away from Sod, who was distracted by a dragon roar heard somewhere else in the distance. Once out of sight, he found a hand-sized rock, took careful aim, and chucked it past Sod. As expected, the sound of it hitting the ground caused the fool to wander the other way.

Running through the forest, Skuf tried his best to calm his mind. This was his chance! He needed to make contact with the Night Fury. If that was ever going to happen, he'd need to convince the dragon that he was not an enemy, so he projected an image for the dragon, trying to communicate with it from a distance. He envisioned the Night Fury surrounded by soldiers who were searching the forest and laced that thought with bitterness. He then projected the sense of danger that the Hooligans needed to know.

If they were friends with dragons, then Skuf would instantly shift allegiance accordingly. He had friends and family he loved in the Berserker tribe, but the best way to protect them would be to stop Dagur from sending them all to Helheim with his dragon army madness.

As he ran along, he saw it again - a flash of red and a black form darting towards the cliff. He ran at full speed after it, trying to assure the creature that it needed his help.

Winded and panting, he broke out into a clearing at the edge of a high cliff. The dragon was… gone! Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Did he so desperately want to find this dragon before Dagur that he allowed himself to imagine things?

A low growl from the side made everything suddenly click into place.

No, he wasn't crazy. Well, not _that_ crazy. He didn't " _track"_ the dragon. He didn't " _find"_ it. The beast _lured_ him away from the others. The dragon decided it _wanted_ to be found by Skuf. To what end, though, and for what purpose? The suspicion and curiosity he was picking up in the air made it clear the dragon wouldn't necessarily attack him. At least, not immediately.

Regardless, Skuf had his own goals. The Hooligans on this island were either friends of dragons or masters of them. He needed to know how, no matter the cost. Slowly, cautiously, he pulled his sword out of its sheath and tossed it to the ground, followed by his hand ax, then his two daggers. The growling halted as he stepped away from the discarded weapons.

WHAM!

Something slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. Skuf didn't move. He knew he couldn't kill the dragon even if he was armed and it was daytime. During that peace treaty mission, he had a clear view of the beast. Four short but powerful legs made it very nimble on land. Its claws looked very sharp and the jaw seemed to be capable of delivering a crushing bite. Supposedly, its fire was very unique, delivering a concussive blast that could shatter bones. Like any dragon, from the tip of its snout to the tip of its tail, every feature of its form was designed to kill and destroy. For some reason, it had reminded him of paintings he once saw of a tiger, except this one had wings and fire and scales.

Besides, even if he could kill the dragon, he wouldn't want to because he was actually hoping to _befriend_ it tonight.

As he lay there, nothing moved. No sound was made. He slowly rose to his feet, half suspecting the dragon already took off, but then he saw it. In the dim light of the moon stabbing through the clouds, a black form stood atop the edge of the cliff, aloof, teeth bared, quietly growling, wings unfurled and tail slowly lashing side to side in agitation. Skuf could practically hear it demanding to know who dares approach and why said fool shouldn't be struck dead right now.

Periodically, the frills crowning its head would stiffen and twitch around, as if feeling for something. A cautious sort of curiosity could be felt from the dragon, so Skuf felt confident enough to start walking towards it. A growl stopped him at ten paces away. He stooped down to all fours and tried to inch closer, but stopped when the growling intensified.

Skuf suspected why the dragon allowed itself to be found. Whether there were Hooligan dragon whisperers or not, he must be a rare specimen in a dragon's eyes. Beyond that, the workings of this creature's mind were a mystery, but Skuf had his own agenda. He needed to do more to earn the dragon's trust to see if it really could help in stopping Dagur from capturing and enslaving more dragons.

An idea came to mind to help the dragon trust him more. Skuf leaned over and picked up one of his daggers from the ground. The blade was clean, smooth, and sharp enough to shave hair, a fine tool for severing the neck of an unsuspecting foe. The warriors on Berserker Island always took pride in maintaining their daggers, even if the swords and axes got dinged up and stained.

The growling picked up again, but Skuf ignored it as he went down on one knee. It was a crazy idea. Insane, even. He aligned the blade along the length of his leg, careful to miss the artery, and took a deep breath as he ran his mantra through is mind.

 _Trust is the mother of cooperation_.

Before he could change his mind, he thrust his dagger into the soft part of his leg, above the knee. If he were capable of screaming, he would be howling in agony.

 _This is insane!_

Wincing at the pain, Skuf realized he could sense a tinge of remorse from the dragon. His heart sped up at not only the pain and blood loss, but the possibilities here. The beast actually felt bad for the man in a confused way.

 _This should be enough_.

After pulling the dagger out of his leg, he looked at the wound. Blood was trickling out. Lovely! It was a convincing display that he was really injured and, since the cut was in line with the muscle fibers, he should recover quickly and still be able to walk tonight. Before tossing the dagger back to the ground, he wiped it on his sleeve. If _his_ blade was found with blood that wasn't from a dragon - any fool could tell the difference - the suspicions raised may foil his plan.

Steeling himself for the next step, Skuf ran his mantra through his mind.

 _Trust is the mother of cooperation_.

As he slowly limped towards the dragon, he tried to project his intents, his desperation, his need for the dragon to cooperate with him. Silently, Skuf tried to tell the dragon, _If you cannot trust that I do not_ want _to harm you, then perhaps you can trust that I am not_ able _to harm you_.

The dragon started to growl when Skuf limped up to a few paces away, so he stopped and dropped to one knee. The growling ceased and the dragon stared intently at the Viking through two black slits mounted in acid-green orbs.

Skuf could now see the dragon's features a little better. The moonlight played along the black scales in shifting patterns with every breath it took. Its head was wide and short, mounted on a stocky neck that Skuf imagined would hardly allow for much flexibility. Fins crowned its head on the top and sides, standing out and periodically twitching randomly, as if controlled by a mind of their own. The most interesting detail, though, was the broad leather straps securing a saddle to the dragon's back and a bright red… tailfin?

On Berserker island, Skuf had learned that trying to touch a dragon by approaching it never worked. They instinctively didn't trust people and who could blame them for that? Instead, he learned to simply extend out his hand, and if the dragon was curious enough, it would touch him. Avoiding eye contact also helped the dragon feel more calm, being in control of the situation. Skuf had learned this from the Terrible Terrors as he could feel the fear and suspicion immediately melt away when he averted his gaze.

He could have sworn he heard an exasperated sigh of longsuffering from the Night Fury. Ignoring it, he focused on keeping his thoughts calm and confident as he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He couldn't tell if it was just him or, maybe, time seems to slow to a crawl when one is unarmed, injured, and kneeling in front of a dragon with his eyes closed in hopes that it will trust him enough to consider cooperating with him to stop a power-hungry madman and help protect a tribe that could cooperate with dragons so that he could learn more about this strange relationship. It didn't help that the warrior he was paired with and abandoned in the forest was stumbling around, searching for Skuf and the dragon, both of whom were right here... assuming the dragon really _was_ still here and didn't-

Skuf's heart jumped into his throat as he felt a warm, scaly nose press into his palm.


	2. Island Hopping

**2 - Island Hopping**

Toothless would be the first to admit that he has done some strange things in his life. Hit a rock with his head out of sheer boredom until one of them splits in two. Take a free-falling dive into a dense forest from high altitude. Lose a tailfin, then learn to fly again with the aid of his rider. Kill a mind-controlling demonic queen by blowing her up from the inside out. Tip over a yak because he didn't like the way it looked at him. Things that would make land-striders and dragons alike do a double-take.

This, however, was one of the strangest things he never thought he'd ever do. Pressed against his own black scales was the hand of a strange land-strider. The so-called Dragon Whisperer. A while back, the dragon's rider had done this very same thing, back before he was a rider. This time, though, with the Dragon Whisperer, was so much different. He could actually hear dragons! No other land-strider could do that. Well, technically, one other can, but she's old and ornery and keeps to herself.

The Dragon Whisperer didn't look special in any way. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale flesh, the usual slabs of dead hide to provide some protection. He was unusually short for a mature land-strider, but his posture, the way he held himself even with the injured leg, portrayed confidence in his own abilities. Each motion he made had a certain snap to it, like when the dragon riders are all trying to impress each other, but it was just natural for this little critter.

Earlier tonight, Toothless' rider was threatened. His blood boiled and his vision turned red as rage took over. He knew that if he broke from hiding and attacked, there were far too many enemies to expect to survive this encounter, but that did not matter. The leader of these interlopers was about to attack _his_ precious rider!

However, even in his seething rage, he saw the Dragon Whisperer, shiny claw exposed, and could tell he intended to intervene on the rider's behalf. It all turned out to be a false alarm, but it was enough to give the dragon pause so he could beat down the rage and think clearly like his rider always would. The Dragon Whisperer unwittingly averted the likely death of both dragon and rider and Toothless had to figure out why and how.

For a while, Toothless had been darting around the invaders, snapping twigs and trying to draw them away from each other. They always moved in pairs, but he was hoping to separate them enough so that he could dash in and pluck his rider to safety without any retaliation. They were too smart to fall for such a ploy, though, so it was back to deciding whether to rush in and die or wait and see what happens. Rushing in wasn't really an option. Toothless knew that if he was overwhelmed, his rider wouldn't run; he would stand and fight to the death to protect his dragon. Such was the intensity of their devotion towards each other.

This was why Toothless always left it to his rider come up with the brilliant ideas.

That wasn't an option, so Toothless resorted to separating the Dragon Whisperer from all the others. At first, it was just curiosity. If one is to go mad with worry for his rider, why not investigate some strange anomaly in the meantime? Such a task proved easier than anticipated as this land-strider also wanted this meeting to occur.

Initially the Dragon Whisperer simply let out a torrent of impressions in a haphazard mess, expressing how grateful he felt to be trusted by a dragon and how he only wanted to help and that he wasn't one of those interloping land-striders out there and he could help save the dragon's rider and he'll make fish rain from the sky and so on.

Toothless twitched the sensor lobes around the base of his head to keep track of his rider. Guided by a lifetime of experience, he settled in on the optimum positions to hear the projections of his rider and all the other land-striders in this forest.

Land-striders always assume these to be ear fins, but each sensor lobe was actually a tightly corded web of nerves encased in scaly hide. Even when they're not thinking with their lips, dragons and land-striders are always projecting some sort of passive hum. Not only could these sensor lobes attenuate to pick up the faintest whispers from much farther away than most other dragons, but they also allowed him to perceive distance and direction of the projection's source. Such a unique trait that augmented his night vision made him the true master of the night.

Even when trying to be sneaky, these interlopers were still quietly grumbling as they thought with their lips, producing glaring points of coordinated thought patterns that stuck out among the general hum. Toothless' sensor lobes continued to twitch around methodically, feeling out where these projections were coming from. Aside from just location, he could pick up bits of what thoughts they were projecting. A land-striders projections have always been a muddy stream compared to a dragon's calm and clear pond, but at least their primal emotions were easy to discern.

Past this Dragon Whisperer was a lone land-strider whose passive hum boiled with apprehension and frustration. It would seem that some omnipotent and all-powerful entity placed an exposed root in front of his foot as it was apparently the only explanation of how he tripped and sprained his wrist. At least, that was the gist of what Toothless could garner.

There were others, farther away, scattered about in pairs, radiating apprehension and excitement. Each wanted to be the one to take down the elusive black dragon. They were cautiously searching around but annoyingly mindful to stay close enough to quickly receive aid should they run into trouble. Last, but certainly not least, Toothless could sense his rider, whose projections he could recognize in his sleep, along with that crazy leader of the interlopers that hummed with joy, scorn, and far too much enthusiasm for comfort. Despite all that, the rider felt calm and annoyed more than worried.

Good. Nothing has changed, then. Even though it would be suicide to run right in, Toothless wouldn't hesitate for an instant if his rider started to feel like he really needed help. Technically, Toothless wasn't even supposed to be in this forest. He was supposed to be with all the other dragons on the far side of the island to allow their riders to wander the forest alone and practice their survival skills. Apparently, for land-striders, surviving on their own requires more than just finding a high bluff, warming a patch of stone with a stream of fire, and curling up to sleep. The riders were counting on some time alone in the forest to train, but they certainly were _not_ counting on interlopers suddenly showing up to hunt their dragons.

Content that all was well for the moment, Toothless opened his eyes and looked at the Dragon Whisperer. Toothless had stopped paying attention to all the pleading for trust and cooperation to save the world or something like that in favor of checking up on his rider, but could simply review his memories of what just happened. Unlike land-striders, dragons lacked the astonishing ability to forget things. However, even though land-striders couldn't instantly recall every impression since birth, they compensated in imagination and creating new thoughts, which was why Toothless was hopeful that this one may be of some use.

In reviewing what the Dragon Whisperer was saying, it's an intriguing tale. Island of violent land-striders, caged dragons, Dragon Whisperer could talk to them, has seen that dragons are not simple-minded beasts, wanted to free them but had no opportunity to do so. He was certain there are dragon riders on this island and wanted to meet them and see what could be done to handle a looming threat that would surely spread. Oh, and it all happens to revolve around that crazy interloper out there in the forest.

Toothless narrowed his eyes at the land-strider standing in front of him. _{Do you realize just how insane you are?}_

It was Toothless's first actual projected thought above the primal hum of emotions, serving more as a communication test than anything else. Even though he was expecting a reply, he couldn't suppress his surprised yelp at hearing it come across so a crisp and clear from a land-strider. No groping around in a muddy river to try to figure out what he was trying to communicate.

 _{Am I insane to trust you to want to do what is right, dragon, or for all the other reasons?}_

 _Toothless snorted. {All of it. You impaled your own leg with your shiny claw!}_

 _{You didn't trust me! What other choice did I have? I'm just glad you didn't fly off because your land-strider friends need to know what I have to tell them.}_

Toothless huffed in irritation. First things first. _{If you help me deliver my rider to safety, I will allow you to speak with him.}_

The Dragon Whisperer cocked his head in thought. _{I can do that now. We will attract them all to this bluff and create a distraction and your rider can easily flee to safety. Then you can fly off to create a distraction that will send the invaders fleeing and then take me to the land-strider nest on this island. They will naturally want to apprehend me and I am content with that.}_

Fair enough. There was just one slight technicality. _{I cannot fly. Not on my own at least.}_

The Dragon Whisperer gave him a flat stare. Toothless returned it with an annoyed glare. He flicked his tail around to reveal his missing tailfin and the bright red prosthetic replacement, projecting images of his rider sitting on his back, using his foot in some sort of mechanism to control the prosthetic tailfin. The Dragon Whisperer started to connect things in his mind, confusion giving way to excitement.

 _{You're asking me to ride you?}_

 _Toothless curled his lips up to bare his teeth. {Try anything funny and I'll toss you into the sea. Now, get on my back and attract all those interlopers.}_

 _{Not yet. I have a plan that will benefit both of us. Just give me a moment.}_

Toothless groaned, flicked his sensor lobes to check that his rider was still safe and confident, then gave an annoyed glare at the Dragon Whisperer, who was hobbling around to gather some things. His passive hum and the look on his face reminded the dragon of his own rider who would seemingly relish driving his dragon insane by enacting all sorts of crazy plans that seemed doomed to fail but usually manage to work out well despite the odds.

However, whether this plan was necessary or beneficial, Toothless couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that he would absolutely hate it.

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He was right! By the egg that hatched him, he was absolutely right! Toothless did not like this plan one little bit, but what other choice was there? Leave the Dragon Whisperer, who even injured himself just to gain an audience with him? Directly confront all the intruders and die?

Toothless had to admit he could see the logic in the land-strider's plan. The very insane sort of logic.

He grunted to himself, sending a puff of vapor out of his nostrils that slowly dissipated in the still, cold air. This plan was absolutely crazy! It was bold and risky. The outcome could be massively beneficial to all involved or end in a massive catastrophe. It reminded the dragon of his rider. Since he couldn't think of anything else to do but go along with it, he threw his head up and let out a loud, sharp roar.

Grabbing his shiny claws, the Dragon Whisperer banged them together to make some noise. Land-striders usually made loud noises with their mouths, but no sound ever escaped his lips except that of breathing. Strange. Maybe that explains his name?

As part of this crazy plan, Toothless held up his foreleg and bit down just hard enough to let out a little dribble of blood. He then dabbed his paw on the Dragon Whisperer's injured leg to smear a bloody paw-print on a rock protruding from the ground. The Dragon Whisper did likewise with the dragon's blood. Since even a land-strider could easily distinguish between their blood and a dragon's, this should easily suggest that they injured each other in a fight.

After all, it wouldn't be a convincing mauling without some gore.

 _{Fire!}_

Toothless acknowledged the Dragon Whisperer's instruction and looked up at the tree line. He shot out a bright bolt of purple fire that hit a tree, exploding with a concussive force, charring the wood and splintering the branches, sending down a shower of burning wood chips. One small chip, glowing dimly red and leaving a faint trail of smoke, bounced harmlessly off of the dragon's head. There were some glowing embers on the wood near where the blast hit, but no flames - one advantage of his highly-volatile fire that burns almost instantly. Setting the whole forest ablaze would definitely get him in trouble.

A quick flick of his sensor lobes revealed that this diversion was working. All the land-striders were on the move. Firefly managed to slip away while they flocked toward the noise.

By now, the Dragon Whisperer had flung his broad, shiny claw into the trunk of a tree. He grabbed what appeared to be a severed goat's horn that was clinging to his torso, pressed it to his lips, and blew hard. A loud, high-pitched bellow echoed through the forest and across the valley. Shouts could be heard in the distance and similar sounds responded from multiple directions.

Of all the things to dwell on at this very moment, Toothless just felt that the name "Dragon Whisperer" wasn't quite right. After all, dragons assign a name to someone they interact with based on some related imagery as nothing more than a memory peg linking the individual to their temperament. Toothless grunted as he finally settled on a fitting name.

 _Badger._

 _Unyielding, loud, and wily. Yes, Badger would be an appropriate name for such a creature._

Badger blew three more quick blasts on the horn and threw it down, hastily grabbed a more slender, longer shiny claw, and ran towards his winged accomplice as fast as his injured leg would allow with a grin spread across his face.

 _{Toothless, cry out in pain as if I just stabbed you with my shiny claw.}_

The dragon complied, faking his best attempt at a pained yelp.

Badger grinned at him. _{Are you ready to finish off your poor victim?}_

Toothless rolled his eyes. Off to the side, he noticed movement from someone blundering through the edge of the forest, giving two short blasts of his horn as he ran. Badger started to run away from Toothless, who leaped forward to tackle him, sending him collapsing face-first into the ground. His shiny claw was thrown out of reach and slid a short distance away.

By now, other land-striders were running in behind the first who spied them a moment earlier. Toothless shot a fireball toward them, taking careful aim to not actually hit anyone. His rider always did everything in his power to solve his problems without violence, even if it was at a risk to himself. Toothless took on the same mindset for himself. The fireball hit the base of the tree just behind the nearest invader, throwing him forward from the impact and temporarily blinding anyone who didn't have the sense to cover his eyes.

Toothless turned his back on the new interlopers and snarled and snapped at Badger, who grabbed onto the wide saddle strap and held on tight.

 _{Just don't step on me,}_ Badger pleaded. Excitement washed out his entire emotional palette.

Toothless flicked his head around to lob out another fireball to blind and hinder his attackers as he ran in a wide arc toward the edge of the cliff a few wingspans away, dragging Badger underneath, and leaped off the edge with his wings extended.

 _{Are you still there,_ Badger? _}_

Badger looked up in confusion. _{Badger?}_

 _{Yes!}_ Toothless snorted in amusement. _{I think it's a fitting name for you.}_

 _{How cruel you are. First, you make me stab myself before allowing me to approach, then you maul me just for fun, and now you name me after a rodent! What's next, are you going to take me to your evil lair and eat me?}_ Badger always had a sarcastic comment for every situation, it seemed.

Toothless projected an image of himself disgustedly spitting out a rodent that was clamped in his jaws. _{I would not eat you. Creatures that eat meat taste terrible. Just open my tailfin before we both crash! I'm already starting to lose my balance. I cannot hold on much longer.}_

Toothless could feel Badger shift around below, reaching for the mechanism that controlled the tailfin. The fin deployed but needed adjustment. It was rolling Toothless left against his will and they started to lose a lot of altitude, but they were still a comfortable height above the sea. They were, as his rider would always put it, three mistakes high - a fitting measurement hailing back to their first days together, learning how to work together to fly. Toothless extended his left wing a little farther, retracted his right, and rotated his left aileron fin down in an attempt to stabilize the flight. It helped some, but not enough.

 _{Up! Up! Up! Move the tailfin up!}_ Toothless roared out in frustration.

Badger flicked the tailfin down to the dragon's dismay, causing him to pitch against his will. This would make it even harder for Badger to retain his grip while also controlling the tailfin lever. The sea was rapidly approaching.

 _{No! That's not up! The other way!}_

Toothless breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the tailfin snap upward, correcting his flight momentarily.

 _{Now down a bit, but not too much... more... too much, back up again. Now, try again... there, that's good.}_

 _{I'm flying a dragon! I'm flying a dragon!}_

 _{Last I checked, the dragon is flying you.}_

Toothless gave a surprised yelp as his tailfin wiggled back and forth erratically.

 _{That's not funny!}_

Badger realigned the fin. _{Oh, I almost forgot we're faking my death.}_ Toothless looked down to see his "rider" holding a dead stick above his head.

 _{Toothless, this stick is very dry. Break it in your mouth. It will sound like you're breaking my bones}_.

The dragon complied, wrapping his teeth around the stick and biting down hard with a twist of his neck. A loud crack pierced the air and could be heard bouncing from the rock wall that was now a little ways behind them. Wooden quills could be heard whizzing through the air, but hitting a black dragon on a dark night was impossible.

Toothless took in a deep breath and let out a long, loud roar over his latest "victim". Hopefully, this display would distract the invaders enough to grab his rider and get to safety.

If he focused his sensor lobes just right, he could find his rider out there in the forest. He was on the move and alone, which was very encouraging. The crazy land-strider didn't run away to safety when he had the chance but followed the invaders in seclusion, more worried about his dragon than himself. Confusion reigned in his emotional hum, but at least he had the sense to put some more distance between himself and the threat. As tempting as it was to turn around and get him immediately, flying straight was hard enough with the underslung rider without adding any more complexity. They were nearing some sea stacks up ahead to land on and maybe Badger could then get in the saddle to properly work the tailfin. Having his "rider" hanging below made the dragon feel quite uneasy.

Toothless looked down at his cargo. _{Badger, do you think the plan worked? Will those land-striders think I killed you?}_

 _{I have no doubt. On top of that, they revealed their position to anybody on the island and will be forced to beat a hasty retreat. That display we put on should convince them that you dragons are all mindless killers, which should distract them for a while.}_ Badger sounded confident

 _{Maybe I_ am _a mindless killer, meat.}_ Toothless imagined himself standing on the ground with a big smirk on his face, teeth bared, and Badger lying face-down under his paw.

He then yelped as he felt his tailfin jerking up and down, fighting his attempt to fly straight. He casually flicked Badger with the smooth back of his claw and felt his tailfin slide back to the neutral position.

 _{Toothless, can you still fly if I lock your tailfin like this? I assume this is only for flying straight, but are you still able to maneuver around?}_

Toothless thought about it. _{I never tried it. My rider has always controlled the fin for me. Hold it there and I'll see what I can do.}_

By now, they were out of sight of where they took off from, partway around the island. The coast looked small. Toothless started some banking turns, climbing and diving gently.

 _{Why do you ask? Is it hard for you to control my tailfin?}_

As Toothless started to pull up out of a dive, Badger's grip loosened and he started to fall. The dragon felt his panic and quickly wrapped his front legs around him. _{I got you!}_

Badger projected his relief and gratitude. _{Thanks for the save. I don't think I'm going to last very long. I'm losing a lot of blood. Continuing like this will only get me killed and send you for a hard landing. I think I can rig your tailfin so that you can fly alone without me. This will allow you to go reunite with your rider even if I fall unconscious. Drop me off on the sea stack there and I'll rig your fin before I pass out.}_

Toothless grunted in affirmation and beat his wings harder to get to the sea stack. It was only a few wingspans wide, but it was large enough for what they needed. At one time, this may have been part of the island. Years of tunneling from certain subterranean dragons probably caused landslides and formed these isolated sea stacks.

A cloud of dust swirled around as Toothless gently landed. Badger plopped himself down and immediately sat up to remove some sack that was slung under his shoulder. He found a length of vines, which he used somewhere back there to secure the tailfin in the neutral position, then tugged hard to test it out to his satisfaction. Toothless warbled his appreciation and started to step away, spreading his wings to take off, but he felt a tug on his saddle and stopped to look back at Badger.

 _{Hold on, Toothless. There's one more thing I have to do. This is important.}_ Badger rummaged around to find a chunk of charcoal. _{We normally use this to start fires, but I have an idea.}_

Toothless shifted his weight uneasily. It killed him to know his rider was still out there, but Badger has proven himself to be trustworthy so far. _{I'm listening.}_

 _{I know I did not find you so much as you desired to lure me away. Still, looking for your red tailfin in the dark made it easier to find you. Let me color it black to match the rest of you. You need to be invisible and take advantage of how dark this night is unless you want to attract unwanted attention to yourself and your rider.}_

Badger proceeded to drop the charcoal on the ground, crushing it into dust under his heel.

 _{Give me your tail, please}_.

Toothless curled his tail around so that the prosthetic fin was in front of Badger, who started to smear the charcoal dust on both the top and bottom of the fin, working it into the membrane. After a moment of that, he leaned back, satisfied with his work.

Toothless asked Badger if that was all he needed to do, but judging by the lack of response, it seemed the land-strider could not hear him. No surprise there considering he appeared to be still developing his ability to hear the thought projections dragons use. However, it seemed that Badger heard enough to realize he was being addressed as he reached forward towards the dragon's head to make contact.

 _{Badger, I guess your ability to hear me is hit-and-miss without contact.}_

Badger smiled as he felt sympathy from Toothless. _{Let's just say I'm not as magnificently equipped as you. Anyway, here's a plan. You can now fly alone. I would imagine you're not as maneuverable as you would be with someone on your back working the tailfin, but it seems you can at least get around. If you attack one of the sea vessels, the invaders will be forced to beat a hasty retreat off the island.}_

The dragon received an image of his target, specifying which part of it to hit. It was the largest of the three sea vessels, just above the base of a large tree sprouting up from the center of it. Knocking that down would make it a lot less maneuverable.

Toothless blinked and was about to turn away, but Badger leaned forward to keep contact. He had more to say. _{Your first shot is free. They will not see it coming. Don't go for a second – it's risky. Going back again for a third would simply be suicide as they would be prepared with lots of weapons to take you down. One shot only, then you can easily snag your rider in all the panic and confusion. If you need to find me later, you know where I'll be.}_

Toothless warbled at the thought of reuniting with his rider. _{Thank you, Badger. I won't forget about you. By the way, take this to keep warm.}_

He shifted around, presenting his right flank. Badger opened up the saddlebag and pulled out a black, hairy yak hide. He gave Toothless an affectionate pat on his shoulder and then sat down heavily on the ground. He had almost no strength left.

Satisfied that he should be fine for now, Toothless leaped off the edge of the sea stack, eager to find his rider. He couldn't stand this game of cat and mouse any longer.

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Skuf watched as the Night Fury kicked off of the edge of his sea stack and flew off towards Dagur's ships. Hiccup made it to safety and Dagur was on the retreat, empty-handed. That Loki-damned knife wound was _still_ bleeding, though. Still, he might be able to consider this dragon to be a friend. An ally.

Before taking off, the dragon even spared a moment to share his name. No Teeth or Toothless or something like that. The dragon even… retracted his teeth and extended them again… as strange as that seemed. Maybe it was all a hallucination from the blood loss.

Speaking of which, dying now would be really annoying, so Skuf grabbed some rope and tied a tourniquet above his wound, using a charcoal pencil as a stick to twist the rope tighter. With his wound dressed as well as he could manage for the moment, he laid himself down and rolled up in the yak blanket. It was actually a very good find - a gift from the dragon at that - with a thin hide, but long, thick hairs.

Off in the distance, a loud, high-pitched scream sounded out, followed by a very brief, almost surreal silence. Then, an explosion and splintering wood. Off in the distance, the main mast of Dagur's flagship twisted and buckled with a loud groan, as if the ship was crying out in pain, followed by a loud splash.

A smile spread across Skuf's face as darkness overtook him.


	3. Wake-Up Call

**3 - Wake-Up Call**

Skuf opened his eyes and jerked up in a cold sweat, his heart racing as he scanned the surroundings. The last thing his fuzzy mind could recall was laying on the top of a tall sea stack, bleeding out of his leg, and trying not to freeze in a yak hide. However, he found himself sleeping on a simple wooden bed in a plain room, warm under a pile of furs.

He slowly pushed the furs aside, sliding his feet over the side of the bed. His clothing had been removed and replaced with a rough canvas robe. Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, in front of the only door, was a large man with almost no hair on his head, but a ridiculously long, braided, blonde mustache. He had a prosthetic left arm and right leg. Skuf squinted at the man, staring in thought.

 _Is every creature on this island missing some sort of appendage? Maybe it's a rite of passage? Maybe all these missing arms, legs, and tail fins are the liability of trying to befriend dragons?_

"Ya can relieve yerself over there," the man with the blonde mustache said. "There's crutches leanin' against the wall there if ya need 'em."

Skuf slowly stood up, testing his right leg with the knife wound. It felt about as agonizing as he'd imagined a stab wound ought to feel. At least the blade was sharp and made a clean cut without much tearing. His urgency to answer nature's call made him arrive at the conclusion that his leg was good enough for a limping run in the indicated direction. His head spun, but he managed to remain vertical.

"I know what it's like to wake from a long sleep", Mr. Blonde said, chuckling.

After taking care of business, Skuf reappeared again from around the corner, feeling much better. He sat back down on his bed and looked around. The room was square, about ten paces wide. Judging by the type of timber on the walls, this must be the one and only room in the structure. Well, the adjacent outhouse - a luxury on Berserker island that few could afford - could almost be considered a separate room. A fire was stoked in an open hearth at the center of the room, casting a dim glow on the walls. Aside from Blonde's chair and Skuf's bed, the room was void of any other furnishings.

The cripple reached into a pocket and tossed a chunk of dried fish and what tasted like yak jerky at Skuf, whose hunger would not allow him to be cautious as he tore into it. If it was poisoned, then so be it. Besides, if they wanted him dead, he would have never woken up. As he ate the salty food, he could almost feel the hollow, dead feeling in his whole body from so much blood loss fade away to be replaced with a much more acceptable weariness.

This was all too good to be true. Berk had prisons. _Every_ tribe had prisons. Dug into the cold stone with iron bars to hold you in. And pig slop for food. And buckets for doing your business - _if_ you're lucky. Here, though… it was almost an entire home for Thor's sake! This _cannot_ be common prisoner treatment.

The best Skuf could figure out was that maybe Berk _does_ have dragon whisperers and that Night Fury… right, he called himself No Teeth or Toothless or something like that… maybe Toothless gave him a good report? On that note, where _would_ Toothless stand on the pecking order? Beloved pet? An equal? Village overlord?

"With all the dragon raids we get," Blonde casually droned on, "We learned ta' build small, temporary living quarters like this for those who lose their homes. Since we had no such issues for a while, it'll serve fer a place ya can recover while we figure out what, exactly, you are."

 _{Surely Toothless told you?}_

No response to the projected thoughts. Skuf was unsurprised and disappointed in equal portions. He's been to other tribes and never met another human who would respond to his projected thoughts. Toothless was very surprised to realize a human could hear him. The conclusion was obvious. Besides, humans are fairly weak compared to dragons at projecting thoughts.

As he chewed on the last of the meat, Skuf pulled up the bottom of his robe to examine the wound in his leg. It appeared to have been cleaned and wrapped in bandages. _Clean_ bandages! They were changed recently, _after_ the bleeding had stopped. These people were definitely treating him better than a common prisoner. He started to pick at the bandage to examine the wound, but Mr. Blonde tsked at him.

"I'd jus' leave that if I was you. Disturb the scab an' make a bleedin mess everywhere an' you're cleaning it all up with yer tongue. Seems the bastard that stabbed ya cut along the grain. Deep cut, missed the artery, little damage to the muscle itself. It'll heal up, just leave it be."

Skuf nodded absentmindedly as he flicked the end of the robe back over his leg. Blonde was assuming he was stabbed by someone else. Toothless saw what happened. If there was a single dragon whisperer on this island, surely he or she would have told the very Viking overseeing this prisoner. Maybe Toothless was keeping certain details secret? If so, why? Embarrassment?

Blonde wiggled in his chair at the awkward silence from his prisoner. "So, uh, by the way, name's Gobber. And you are...?"

Skuf looked down for a moment, then up at Gobber, waving a hand over his mouth. Weakness overtook him, but he found the strength to put a hand down on the bed to support himself. He felt hollow with so much blood loss, but did not want to appear weak to these people.

"Silent type, eh?"

Skuf nodded.

"Oath 'a silence?"

Skuf shook his head, then rubbed his index finger over his throat and made a motion with his hands as if breaking a stick.

"Your throat... is broken? I guess the bottom line is ya ain't talkin'?"

Another nod.

"Well, just so ya know, door's locked an' we have guards. If ya think of using a burnin stick from the fire as a weapon, well, I'm a blacksmith. I'll grab the embers with me bare hand and smack ya with 'em. Stoick will want to talk to ya. Speaking of which..."

Gobber leaned back towards the door and shouted, "Grump! Call!"

A dragon roared from outside the structure. It sounded like a Gronckle, but deeper. Skuf was familiar with that type of dragon, with their bee-like body and stubby wings that beat in a blur to fly. Their thick hide and tough scales make them resilient and a spiked ball on the end of their stubby tail can crush every bone in a Viking's body with a single blow. The mouth is almost as large as its head and they can eat almost anything, including rocks. _Especially_ rocks. For centuries, the Berserkers have used such caged dragons to process metals. Gronckles eat the raw ore and spit out molten iron ready for the anvil.

Skuf clicked his tongue to get Gobber's attention and gestured as if writing something in the palm of his hand.

After thinking for a moment, Gobber knocked on the door behind him and said to some unseen person outside, "Hey, Ack, see if ya can find a slate board and chalk. Gothi should have some."

A gruff voice responded from outside, "You got it Gohhh… berrr... How about this one Gothi's Terror just gave me." Grunting outside. "Damn bugger just dropped it at my feet. Made me bend all the way down to the floor to pick it up!"

Gobber's surprised look quickly shifted to annoyance. Skuf couldn't figure it out. Clearly, _Someone_ knew he was mute and thoughtfully sent a slate and chunk of chalk… how low on the pecking order must Gobber be to have to watch the prisoner and not be told such important details that this "Gothi" clearly knew?

"Oh, ya poor wee li'l baby," Gobber teased as he cracked the door open. " _All the way_ to the ground. The sacrifices ya make fer yer tribe. Skalds will sing o' this deed fer years ta come. Now give it here!"

As the slate was thrust through the doorway, a Terrible Terror poked its head in and looked at Skuf. Skuf projected a formless greeting, the thought equivalent of holding his hands out with his palms up. The little dragon just snorted with curiosity mingled with distrust, but nothing beyond that. Surprisingly, it wasn't constantly squirming about, seeking some shiny thing to distract it like any other Terror would do. Skuf had a feeling this one must be older than any of the others he'd seen.

Gobber stared at the slate in deep thought. "And how in Thor's name did she know ta send us a slate? I swear she can see the future, sometimes. Ya think the crazy old crow coulda told me last night so things wouldn't get so awkward-"

The Terror bit down on Gobber's good leg.

"Ow! You little- get!"

Gobber shook the terror off and it skittered away. Skuf scratched his head in confusion, but he thought he picked up some sort of imagery of a raven pecking Gobber's eyes out. Probably just his imagination.

Somewhere outside, a voice approached. Hiccup's voice! "No, really, Dad, I trust Toothless. He wouldn't have been so protective of him for no good reason."

 _Good! He made it out just fine. But what about Dagur?_

Skuf recognized Stoick's voice rumbling in response, "We'll see. Patience, and let me do the talking."

After some unseen greetings of "G'mornin, Chief. Hiccup," the door opened and the massive bulk of Stoick wedged its way through. He looked to be in his mid-forties, very large and strong, wearing a silly-looking horned helmet, a green vest that extended down to his knees, a large studded belt, and an iron mail skirt. Skuf was trying to figure out why a person's only armor, aside from the pauldrons, was only between his waist and his knees when he suddenly realized that this was the first person seen today with all his appendages intact.

Hiccup followed at his father's heels. He looked just as lightweight and unassuming as Skuf remembered, although the calluses and burn marks on his hands showed that he probably apprenticed as a blacksmith. Maybe sharpening blades and doing fine detail work or something like that. He had shoulder-length auburn hair, green tunic, and dark olive leggings, but he also wore some sort of brown leather harness that fastened around his shoulders and waist with straps running diagonally across his torso.

 _Wait just a moment, here! A harness on a person? Exactly who has tamed who? This is weird._

Stoick spoke up in an impatient, down-to-business tone of voice. "Well, hello there. I'm Stoick, this is Hiccup. I gather ya already met _his_ best friend as this is a very unusual situation now, isn't it? Berserker tribe on _my_ island, stabbed in the leg, and found on a sea stack with a blanket that came from a saddlebag on one of _our_ dragons. And Hiccup can't decide if his dragon mauled you and took off with you or if you rode him and worked the tailfin so he could fly. Judging by how you look, I'm guessing somewhere in the middle."

Skuf nodded, causing Stoick to frown at the lack of a verbal response. He made eye contact with Hiccup, tappen a knuckle to his tooth and motioned his finger up and down, pantomiming the way the Night Fury could retract and extend his teeth as demonstrated last night. Hiccup balked as recognition dawned on him, not quite sure what to make of it.

"Oh, by the way," Gobber leaned over and quietly said to Stoick, "He told me he's a mute. He can't speak."

Stoick raised one eyebrow. "He _told_ you he's a mute?"

Gobber chuckled. "Very clever with his hand signals. Almost as if he's had ta tell this to everyone he meets for the last umpteen years."

"Right, then," Stoick continued. He tossed the slate and chalk to Skuf. "Name." It was probably a question, but sounded more like an order.

Skuf complied and wrote his name to show them.

"Berserker tribe your whole life?"

Skuf nodded.

"Trained warrior like everyone else there?"

Another nod. Skuf held one hand flat in front of him, then with the other hand, pointed his thumb at himself and held that hand above the other.

Stoick scratched his chin. "Ummm, oh, top of your class, eh?"

Skuff smiled.

Stoick's face remained true to his namesake, as did his uninterested voice, but his passive hum betrayed skepticism. "Uh-huh."

Hiccup excitedly jumped in. "What did you do with Toothless? That yak hide you had came from _his_ saddlebag, so I know he flew you up there to the top of that sea stack. Did you get him to let you ride him? How? And how did you know how to work the tailfin? When we were reunited, he took me to you and curled his tail around you protectively. _What_ did you _do_?"

Stoick slapped a massive hand to his face. "You're almost as bad as Fishlegs."

" _Almost_?" Gobber tossed in.

Stoick returned with a flat stare, "Nobody can out-Fishlegs Fishlegs."

In answer, Skuf gestured as if pulling a sword out of its scabbard and tossing it to the side. He then held an imaginary blade in his hand and plunged it into his leg over his bandaged wound.

"You... stabbed yourself?!" Hiccup asked wide-eyed. "To gain Toothless' trust?"

Skuf nodded.

"That's insane!"

A throaty chortle rumbled outside the building and Skuf heard some projected thoughts he recognized as coming from the Night Fury.

 _{I'm not the only one who thinks you're insane, it would seem.}_ Skuf could envision the dragon smirking as he projected that.

 _{Silence! I am not insane.}_

 _{So now you can hear me without contact.}_ There was a surprised sort of glee in Toothless' "voice".

 _{I guess I'm getting better at it. Each dragon's projections are different and takes me a while to recognize them. Your projections are easier to hear, but I suppose that only makes sense.}_

He suddenly realized Stoick was talking.

"Hiccup, does this mean _anybody_ could gain your dragon's trust and fly him wherever they want just by disarming himself?"

Gobber couldn't resist chiming in. "Maybe Skuf gave him a fish!"

A draconic snarl grabbed everyone's attention.

 _{Badger, you have my permission to knock his teeth out!}_

"W-what? N-no," Hiccup stammered. "And don't be silly. You remember the _last_ time you tried bribing Toothless with a fish, Gobber? The shop reeked for a whole week! Besides, Toothless wouldn't let anyone _else_ ride him. I could barely get him to allow Astrid to fly him and that was only when I was sitting right behind her... and that's, well, _Astrid_ for Thor's sake. There's _gotta_ be something more!"

Skuf wrote on the slate, _'I can speak to dragons.'_

"Umm, anyone can talk to a dragon," Stoick said in an annoyed tone. "I can even talk to walls. And rocks and trees. They never argue with me. Ever! Excellent listeners!"

Annoyed, Skuf rapidly clicked his tongue twice and wrote, _'Dragons speak. Not words. You're deaf, but I hear unspoken words. I talk to dragons. They talk to me. I made deal with Toothless.'_

Hiccup scratched his head, deep in thought, smoke practically pouring out of his ears as he groped for an understanding. "Speak... without... words. I've always known Toothless could understand me, somewhat imperfectly, but he's gotten pretty good at it over time. I just thought it was just the bond between us… but you somehow learned his name without anyone telling you and… and the way you were staring at nothing and Toothless reacted to… something… and, wait, you made a deal?! Toothless didn't really attack you last night. You _really_ got him to help fake your death! It sure worked as Dagur forgot I even existed, so that could only-" His face lit up as he squirmed on his feet with giddy excitement. "Dad! If Skuf really can-"

Stoick facepalmed again. "Oh boy, here we go."

"No, Dad, listen! If Skuf really _can_ hear our dragons then just-"

"Hiccup…"

" _Imagine_ what we could learn and-"

"Hiccup!"

"If _I_ could learn how to hear Toothless then-"

"HICCUP!"

The heir cringed inwardly at the bellow. Silence reigned for a moment. With a single eye squinted open in trepidation, Hiccup squeaked out, "Can you hear Toothless talk to you now?"

Stoick face-palmed as both he and Gobber groaned in unison. Outside, Toothless huffed in annoyance.

 _{Tell him no, Badger. We were enjoying a nice flight before you woke up. We all know where this is going and I don't feel like playing this game.}_

Skuf frowned at the wall. _{Don't be silly, Toothless. What are you, a Terrible Terror? Have some patience and I can teach your rider to hear you for himself. Wouldn't you like that?}_

 _{I don't believe you and I won't let my rider get his hopes up only to endure heartbreak in the future. If it was possible, he would have figured it out long ago. Just go back to sleep. If you're not tired, yet, stab yourself again. I've had enough of you for one day.}_

Skuf slowly nodded. Maintaining a relationship with this dragon was his highest priority. Other ways would arise to get closer to the dragons and gain favor with the Hooligans.

He was startled, though, when Hiccup squealed with delight. It took a moment of going over the conversation to realize Hiccup interpreted that nod as confirmation that Skuf could converse with dragons. Toothless groaned and projected an image of himself tearing chunks out of Skuf's dead body.

Hiccup looked at his father, who refused to acknowledge the existence of his son.

"Okay! Okay!" Hiccup exclaimed, hopping on his toes. "I taught Toothless to count. Tell him how many fingers I'm holding up!"

Outside, Toothless let out a petulant whine, wishing to be soaring through the clouds or playing "catch" with his rider, where rider and dragon free-fall for a bit before getting back into the saddle.

Hiccup eagerly held up four fingers. Unsure of himself, Skuf decided to comply and passed it on to the Night Fury. For an indeterminable amount of time, everyone held their breath. The excitement quickly flushed its way out from Hiccup's face. Toothless's claws could be heard scratching plaintively on the door.

Stoick rolled his eyes and finally broke the tense silence. "Maybe all that banging and ringing in the forge is getting to him-"

"Now don't even _try_ blaming this on _me_ ," Gobber said as though speaking to a pupil. "I know workin' at me smithy ain't what's makin' yer boy loopy. C'mon, Hiccup. Let's get back to work. I got some dull axes with yer name on 'em. Astrid should be swingin' by soon and if you chip another blade while pretending ya ain't staring at her, I'll take a chip out of your hide."

Gobber strode outside, swinging the door hard to bang against the outside wall. Hiccup looked between his dragon and Skuf with a look of utter disappointment and betrayal on his face.

"But Gobber, wait! It's the only logical explanation. Bud, you know how to count, right? Skuf, are you doing it right? Am I missing something?"

Gobber leaned back to grab the front of Hiccup's tunic, hauling him out. "Enough, Hiccup. Skuf is a prisoner an' he knows it. It's probably all just a trick to gain favor an' I can't blame him. Let's go.

Hiccup fluttered his feet to regain his footing as Gobber set him down, head hung in defeat. "I was so hopeful, Gobber. Just think… if I could hear Toothless talking to me, just think of how much better I could understand him and how it would strengthen our bond. It was just too good to be-"

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Toothless slapped his tail against the ground in rapid succession as a certain _somebody_ just had a change of heart. Stoick lost his namesake for a moment. Gobber threw his arms up and spun around.

"Maybe yer right, Stoick. Maybe _I'm_ goin crazy as well! I'll get ear plugs fer the both of us with all that mind-numbin' hammerin' goin on. And filin' and grindin' and yappin' at angry customers. It's drivin' us loopy!"

Hiccup bolted inside again, out of view of his dragon. He held up seven fingers with the most hopeful expression on his face. Skuf relayed it to the dragon, who counted again by slapping his tail against the ground. The boy looked like he was about to faint. He held up three fingers. Just to be funny, Skuf projected the number six to Toothless. The dragon only snarled. Right, dragons can smell a lie. Or maybe it's carried in the passive hum. Skuf projected the correct number and the dragon counted accordingly.

Hiccup dashed out, shouting his glee and cooing at his dragon. Technically, this only proved the dragon can hear the human, not the other way around, but it was enough for the boy, apparently. Skuf could just _feel_ an entire array of similar tests coming up in the near future. He projected his gratitude to Toothless. If the dragon continued playing stupid, that would have put him in a bad spot.

"Ya know," Gobber sighed at Skuf in an annoyed voice, "We Hooligans is simple folk. Dragons raid us, we fight em off. Dragons act all nice to us, we act all nice to them. Vikings attack us, we concave their face. Why ya gotta ruin such a wonderful life? Stoick, why haven't we offed this feller, yet?"

"Apparently," Stoick ground out, "Because a dragon counted to seven and can apparently hear silent words."

"Ya," Gobber squeezed out in a fit of laughter. "With those qualifications, I vote Toothless emperor of the world!"

With the excitement dying down, Skuf noticed his posture was slouching terribly and scraped up whatever energy he could muster to sit up straight again. Nobody ever told him that getting stabbed was such a tiring ordeal.

THUMP!

Skuf jerked his eyes up to see a book slammed down on his bed next to where he sat. Stoick looked down at him with an expressionless stare, but his passive hum gave away hints of curiosity and sympathy.

"A'ight. I got chiefin' to do. You'll be staying here until we figure out what to do with you. We took the liberty of reading your journal." He tapped the book.

Skuf nodded with great enthusiasm. That was his goal in the first place, now that he knows he may find some answers here. The journal would have already answered a lot of questions about his history.

"Yes, well, considering your animosity towards Dagur, I'm guessing you're in no hurry to get back to Berserker island?"

Skuf's head shot up in alarm. He clicked his tongue and shook his head vigorously, waving his hands in front of him.

Collecting his thoughts, he grabbed the slate board and wrote, _'Dagur thinks I'm dead. I worked hard to make it look that way. Toothless helped fake death.'_

Stoick groaned. "If _anyone_ mentions that dragon _one_ more time…" He started pacing and settled back into his business tone. "Add anything that comes to mind as noteworthy. Things like why Dagur came here in the first place. Why ya so desperately want him to think you're dead. I hate that slate board, it's so tedious, so we'll get you something to write with."

The chief stopped for a moment, trying to remember something. "Your journal… did Dagur _really_ murder Oswald the Agreeable?"

Skuf clenched his teeth hard as he slowly nodded. He stuck a thumb to his chest, then pointed at his eyes. He was there. He saw it. He watched a good man die and the tribe descend into depravity.

Stoick groaned, punching one fist into the palm of his other hand. It was actually very comforting to know that somebody else respected Oswald. And a Hooligan at that! Maybe they weren't so bad after all. Oswald was a good chief. Perhaps a bit soft when he should have been hard, but the tribe prospered with him.

"Also include what ya hope to do if you're not going back to Berserker Island."

Stoick spun around with a flick of his bearskin cape and strode out.

 _{I will admit I'm not disappointed that you survived, Badger.}_ Skuf flicked his head to the wall that he figured hid the Night Fury outside. _{I'm sure my rider would have been fine last night without you, but your little plan did work. If you really can teach him to hear me, then you will truly have my gratitude. Don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed, now.}_

Skuf smiled at that. That was the most flattering thing any dragon has ever said to him.

 _{You really do love your rider, Toothless?}_

 _{I would kill without hesitation and die without remorse for him. The day you forget that will be the day you die.}_

And there goes the flattery right out the window. For how casual that reminder was, as if there was no need for the dragon to elaborate or defend his stance, Skuf took heart that there really was something special here on Berk. Elsewhere, dragons have been subdued with varying degrees of success, their bodies broken, their spirits crushed. Here, though, the dragons lend their wings and fire out of pure love.

Just sitting and listening left Skuf drained of energy, so he settled back down on the bed with a smile on his face. Before sleep overtook him, he knew how to begin his next journal entry.

 _Trust is the mother of cooperation._

* * *

 **A/N:  
** BTW, If you've read my latest story, Hookfang's Tale (#ShamelessSelfPlug), you may have caught a reference to a certain dragon named Nose and a certain land-strider named Raven.

Also, I realize the chalkboard wasn't invented until the 1800's, so I may have taken some poetic license in giving Skuf a small slab of slate and a chunk of chalk. In this time period, I know people could draw on cave walls, bark, vellum, and paper, but I really dunno what else could serve as an erasable medium for writing for Skuf, aside from scratching in the dirt like Gothi.

Lastly, to all who left feedback, thank you! Mariah, I'm gonna hesitate to add straight-up dialog tags. I don't mean to appear ungrateful for you taking the time to voice your suggestions, so please allow me to explain.

This whole telepathy dialog stuff is serving as an opportunity to really practice indirect or subtle ways to indicate who's doing the talking. I think one article I read referred to such things as "beats". Whenever I end up writing, "Toothless projected/said/etc, _{I merely chewed in self-defense, but I didn't swallow.}_ " I feel like a smarter version of me would have come up with a better way. However, I think I gotta admit I broke some basic rules, like adding Skuf's actions in the same paragraph as Toothless's dialog or vice-versa, which would certainly lead to confusion.

Anyway, long story short, while I plan to keep doing my current style for now, if I get more comments saying it's confusing, I'll gladly concede and adjust accordingly. Also, if anyone sees ways to improve dialog tags using this sorta style, I'd be in your debt to glean any advice.


	4. The Higher You Soar, the Farther You Fal

**4 - The Higher You Soar, the Farther You Fall**

Dark gray curves stretched out across the parchment. A horned head, at first, then an armored body, broad wings, and massive tail.

At least, that's what they were _supposed_ to be. In all his twenty years on Midgard, for how adept Skuf had become at writing, he never was much of an artist. It didn't matter, though, what the lines looked like on paper. What mattered was what they represented.

A friend.

That dragon owed him nothing and had no reason to take a risk. Skuf was alive because of that dragon and he owed it to his scaled friend to get back to Berserker Island and free him. However, such would be relatively impossible when one is a hundred leagues away, caged much like the dragon. Well, not really caged so much, but stuck on an island, entombed by the ocean.

Skuf snorted at himself as he realized the funk his mind had slid into.

 _Drama queen!_

It has been a week since he woke up in custody on Berk. In that time, he had communicated a lot of information about Dagur, Berserker Island, and his own involvement by writing new pages for Stoick and the council to read whenever someone came to borrow the journal. Naturally, Stoick was most interested in the politics of the Berserker tribe and how it could impact Berk.

For the moment, Skuf's immediate objective was clear: prove to the Hooligans that he was on their side. Everything he's seen has made it abundantly clear that there is much to learn here. And much to teach. These Hooligans weren't just using some sort of witchcraft or apothecary concoctions to control their dragons, nor were they caging and starving and beating them into submission. The most mind-boggling thing about it all was that these Hooligans have developed this genuine relationship with the dragons even when they're all deaf to them.

Well, there was one who could hear dragons. Gothi, or Raven, as the dragons call her, but she kept that under wraps so well that only the dragons even know.

Once free from this luxury prison or house arrest, Skuf's next priority would be to free his draconic friend. That wouldn't happen without the council deciding they can trust Skuf wanding about freely as a member of the Hooligan tribe and the aid of a willing dragon to take him there. Hence, Skuf's drawing of his draconic friend. Gaining favor with Hiccup, the "Dragon Master", would certainly help. He has never seen a Rumblehorn up close and his overbearing curiosity, coupled with his standing as heir to the chief, may cause enough sway to actually make a rescue attempt possible.

Hiccup, of course, heard nothing beyond, "I can learn to hear dragons." Anything else Skuf wrote on the slate was met with smiles and head bobs while the rider dreamed of conversing with Toothless. Skuf was certain that such an ability was not a special talent one is either born with or without, but a learned skill. According to one interesting old and forgotten document Skuf once read, thousands of years ago, all of mankind could communicate by projecting thoughts, However, the proliferation of written and spoken language made everyone forget about such fancy fobbery. There was even a theory that the goddess, Gaia, was connected to all humanity as a unified consciousness. It was only a theory at any rate, but Skuf was confident that Hiccup could learn. Were there any doubt, Toothless would not allow Skuf to fill the rider with such dreams that would only lead to heartbreak.

Hearing the unspoken words was something Skuf had been practicing for a good chunk of his life. Being a mute, he never fit in with any crowd and often busied himself with his sword training and solitary meditations. If he concentrated, he could hear a symphony of emotional "hums" from all dragons and Vikings, even some animals. Over time, he learned that these emotional hums represent only the tip of the iceberg. Through meditation, he has learned to quiet his mind to hear the immense depth of all the details projected by the dragons.

So far, Hiccup has joined in such meditations every morning, performing something so simple as to focus on each breath. It helped to quiet the mind to hear the whispers that people have been conditioned to ignore. Of course, Toothless managed to squeeze into the room to act as a scaly guard dog. He still gave Skuf the cold shoulder, which fell in line with most other dragons Skuf has managed to commune with. It has been his experience that dragons are generally less sentimental creatures than Vikings.

Yesterday, after their morning meditations, Hiccup asked Skuf for a special favor. Simply put, the rider wanted Toothless to tell a story, to share about his favorite flight ever. Toothless would have no problem at all recalling every single detail as all dragons have a perfect memory of every impression since they cracked their egg. It would be an opportunity to win favor with Hiccup.

As Skuf saw it through the dragon's eyes, his hand moved in a blur to write down his own unique short-hand to document the details as the dragon poured out a deluge of raw emotions and sensory data. He then spent most of the day writing things out in actual Norse.

Today would be the moment of truth. Hiccup came at his customary time in the morning with some fish and bread to share. As was also customary, Skuf put the food aside until after his meditations with the boy. Hiccup spotted the paper Skuf had written retelling Toothless' favorite flight, but the former Berserker snatched it away with an evil smirk.

Hiccup whined, but Skuf wrote on the slate, ' _This good training. Forget and focus.'_

"Aww, c'mon," Hiccup stammered. "Can't you show me at least a little bit before our meditations? How am I supposed to find inner peace and focus and whatnot when I know it's _right there_?"

' _Lucky fool finds peace. Wise man creates it. That why I no eat. Embrace loss with joy. You want to hear dragons all the time or only special occasions?'_

Hiccup plopped himself on the floor. "Fine, fine. For the record, you are evil." Skuf grinned and began his meditation lessons.

It all went by as normal, with Hiccup diving head-first and giving it his all while Toothless impatiently shifted around, constantly asking if they're almost done, yet. The boy was actually a very good pupil and had an easier time than most in actually calming his mind and forgetting about distractions. Skuf held the theory that it was somehow tied to Hiccup's underdeveloped build. One so weak cannot survive in such a culture without the ability to tightly control his emotions and use tact and subtlety.

The meditations ended with Hiccup's customary, "Toothless, say something funny. Hmm, not yet. Don't worry, Bud, I'll get there."

They decided to exercise the new privilege Skuf had been given, which was to walk around outside with some armed escort tagging along… as if a Night Fury fiercely loyal to Hiccup wouldn't more than suffice. Skuf gnawed on the bread and fish as the duo stepped outside, blinking at the sun shining through the cloudless sky. Birds chirped from their nests and tree branches. The sounds of hammers, saws, and other work drifted through the village - much better than the raging hailstorm yesterday. The sun always seems brighter, the sky bluer, after a heavy storm. He pulled out a paper and handed it to Hiccup, whose eyes widened as he grabbed it excitedly.

"This is the memory? This is Toothless' favorite flight?"

Skuf nodded. Toothless sniffed at the paper, received some scratches along his eye ridges, then gave a friendly prod to the Dragon Whisperer.

Hiccup started to unfold the stiff paper and asked, "Mind if I read it now?"

Skuf motioned for him to go ahead as they sat down on the side of the pathway next to a recumbent Night Fury, leaning against his scaly hide. Hiccup leaned against the shoulder of his dragon's front leg while Skuf settled down next to Hiccup, farther from the dragon's head.

"I think I have an idea which flight it is."

Toothless craned his head around to the side to flick his eyes from the paper to Hiccup and back again. He couldn't even read and dragons never cared for the art of projecting one's thoughts onto paper in the first place, but he still knew what this was.

Hiccup licked his lips in anticipation and said, "I'll read it aloud so you can hear it, too, Bud."

The young rider always knew that his dragon understood what he said, at least to some degree and on some level, and did his best to never leave him in the dark. He figured, if nothing else, it's the thought that counts.

After clearing his throat, he began reading, "Toothless' favorite flight from his perspective."

########

 _By the egg that hatched me, I can't believe it! I'm flying again! I am no longer a worm, but a dragon! This is so exciting I can barely keep my tail still!_

 _Firefly had actually done it. He gave me back my flight! I had considered it a gain to exchange my tailfin to be freed from the demonic queen's mind snare when I was shot down. Better to die a worm than live as a thrall. But Firefly actually made a tailfin and helped me fly again. I have no clue how it all works, but I won't question land-strider magic._

 _Not long ago, if anyone would have told me that I'd find myself happily flying with a land-strider on my back, I would have killed them without a second thought for being so preposterous. However, Firefly has proven himself to be greater than the sum of all other land-striders. Not just because he somehow enabled flight again. He is the one who freed me from the demonic queen's mind snare. He alone succeeded where all others have failed. He alone deserves to experience this and none other ever will. He alone has earned the right to see all his enemies crawl below in a single glimpse._

 _After days of short skims over the ground, practicing and adjusting and failing and trying again and again, we're finally ready for some_ real _flying!_

 _After some soaring, diving, and accidentally bumping into sea stacks, we angle to ascend. Firefly cries out in excitement as I beat my wings as hard as I can to climb straight up. I will show him just how mighty I am now that I am whole and free. I will show him the world as he's never seen it before. I will introduce him to the sky._

 _I roar with glee and let my tongue hang out. Flying has never been so thrilling! This is what life is all about!_

########

Hiccup looked up from the paper and turned to Skuf. "So… Firefly… that's me?"

Skuf nodded.

"But why..."

Hiccup's eyes went wide as he turned around to Toothless, who was staring nervously.

"Toothless! You named me!" The dragon grunted happily at him. "You gave me a name! Thank you, Toothless! I love it!"

Skuf wrote on his slate, _'Dragons not name with words, but imagery. You bring light and joy and enchant him. Expect much more allegory.'_

Suddenly, Hiccup stopped and looked at Skuf as a thought came to mind. "Do the _other_ riders have... uhhhh... dragon names?"

Skuf slowly nodded. He wasn't sure if it would be encouraging or disappointing in the boy's eyes to not be the only to whom a dragon assigned a name.

"Alright, I have to ask. So they would call Astrid..."

 _'Zealot. Uncompromising, dedicated and loyal to an ideal.'_

Skuf slowly wrote it out, unsure of how it would be received. Over the past week, the other riders had stopped by to see the Dragon Whisperer, curious about this new local attraction. It was obvious that Hiccup loved Astrid - infatuated, even - but would the name of Zealot be taken as a compliment or insult? Skuf could only guess. Hiccup looked at the name and it was clear he wasn't entirely pleased. He tried to hide his reaction from the dragon whisperer.

Tried, being the operative word.

"And Fishlegs?"

 _'Benevolence. Kind and gentle. They sometimes call him Squeamish.'_

Skuf saw that question coming and had it written by the time it was asked. Hiccup's face instantly lit up.

"Hahahahaaaa! I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with this one! I bet he'll blush each and every time he hears someone use that name on him. Alright, how about Snotlout?

' _Cougar. Loud, brash, brave in a sometimes questionable way.'_

"I guess no surprises there. Alright, that leaves the twins."

' _Barf and Belch.'_

"Uh, no." Hiccup looked genuinely confused. "That's what they named the heads of their _dragon_. The Zippleback. What did it name its riders?"

Skuf tapped the slate with his knuckle and rolled his eyes.

Hiccup's confusion slowly twisted into understanding and he giggled. "Wait, are you saying… Really?! I honestly shouldn't be so surprised!"

Hiccup went back to reading, still giggling.

########

 _Can you sense it, Firefly? Can you_ feel _it in your bones?! This is what it's like to be a dragon. Feel the altitude! Feel the speed! Feel the power over those puny land-bound insects beneath us! Up here, we are immortal! Up here, we are free in a way you've never known!_

 _You speak of gods that look down on you. You and I are gods! None can confront us. Scatter, little birds! Flutter in my wake! Flee in terror! My wings are a tempest! My breath is fire! My roar is thunder! My gaze is lightning! My claws are death!_

 _I own the sky! I am a dragon and you will respect me!_

 _Firefly growls out something and I open my eyes._

 _What? Oh no! Firefly! He's not on my back! He's in front of me, below me. This is bad! I look at my tail fin as it flops around uselessly. I can't fly without Firefly operating it! We're both falling and it's all my fault! I'm sorry! I allowed you to fall off my back. Please forgive me! Help me!_

 _I twist my body and tail, trying to control my fall, but nothing seems to work. Firefly spreads himself out to fall right next to me, but I can't do anything. I spin out of control and feel my tail hit something hard. I look around to see Firefly grasping at his face. Pain and frustration are evident in him._

 _Oh no! I hit him with my tail. Now he really hates me! I go limp with my wings tucked in tight as I contemplate my fate. I dare not extend my wings and allow Firefly to fall below me. I need him as much as he needs me._

 _I am not a dragon! I am not powerful! I am a worm! Help me, Firefly!_

 _He's reaching out towards me, roaring at me to just hold still. Determination shines out like a beacon of hope, driving a wave of calm between my scales and into my very core. He doesn't hate me! He still cares about me! I just need to trust him. Yes, that's it! If I can't move closer to him, he can move closer to me._

 _I feel a tug on my saddle. Yes! He did it! Get yourself in position, Firefly! Stretch out my tailfin! I clench my teeth hard as I fight the urge to buck and kick to orient myself. I just want to open my wings and kick around so desperately, but that would only throw him off my back again. I need you, Firefly! I'll never let you fall again if we survive this flight!_

 _My tailfin flicks open and I flip around and spread my wings as wide as I can to try to slow down, grasping at every wisp of air for dear life. The ground is so close! Pain flares through my sides as the wind tries to tear my wings off. I grit my teeth, my joints ache, my muscles burn. The membrane of my wings feels like it's being torn to shreds, but I manage to hold myself together._

 _I finally manage to level off just above the water, but there are obstacles all around. The formation of rocks prevents me from ascending and I can't slow down. I didn't stop my fall so much as trade altitude for speed and now I'm flying stupidly fast. My wings are whipping violently in the wind and my joints are screaming from the abuse._

 _Don't let me die, Firefly! Please don't fly me into a rock! I still need you!_

 _I fight through the pain as I fly into this maze of death. One wrong move and both of us will splatter against the rocks at this speed. You cannot hear me, Firefly, but I can hear your intents. I will follow your lead._

 _My tail clicks into a new position and I feel a tug to the left. Alright, Firefly. You want left, you got left. I dodge around that rock only to see another one just in front of me. Another click and a tug to the right. I doubt myself for a moment, then I realize I have to trust him. I_ must _trust him! I fly to the right, pulling in my wings to shoot through a narrow opening. We are still going so fast. To rise is impossible; to slow down is to lose my wings. This is pure terror!_

 _Firefly, though, is focused and determined. Where his control of that tailfin he made was sloppy and uncoordinated only moments ago, each motion is now crisp and quick and_ precisely _what I need. Each decision and movement is perfect. To think that he, a land-strider, is more confident than the master of the sky! I have learned my lesson, Firefly. I will never underestimate your abilities ever again._

 _Against all odds, we somehow weave our way through the maze of death, almost becoming one single creature instead of a dragon with a rider on my back. As quick as it all started, we're in the clear. The fog parts to reveal open water and sky._

 _You did it, Firefly! You got us through there alive! I knew I could trust you. Thank you! Thank you for saving me! I can't believe we did it. I will never doubt you again. I will always trust you at all times. Always! I am your wings. I am your fire. You are my confidence. You are crazy and I_ like _it!_

 _I let out a triumphant roar as Firefly shouts with excitement. By now we're flying at a much better speed and I start to regain feeling in my wings. I gather up a small fireball in my mouth, allowing it to become unstable, and shoot it out. It explodes in a cloud of fire as I fly right through it with my tongue hanging out, just enjoying the experience. Firefly grumbles something and I sense disapproval._

 _What? How can you not love flying through a fireball? The heat from it feels amazing on my face. Oh well, I'll have to remember that for next time. Maybe I'll make up for it by giving him some of my fish._

########

Hiccup looked up from the paper with a single tear crawling down his cheek. Toothless craned his neck around to press his nose into Hiccup, giving him a little lick.

The rider just stared into his dragon's eyes and said, "I never knew that was such an exercise in trust for you, Bud. I thought _I_ was the one who needed to learn to trust _you._ "

Hiccup turned to Skuf, sitting next to him. "Thank you for doing this for me. To see what that was like from the eyes of Toothless..." he trailed off.

"Hey, you coming to the arena, or what?" Hiccup and Skuf looked up to see Astrid standing over them.

"Oh! Umm, hi. Hi Astrid... Hi." Hiccup stammered. After taking a moment to compose himself, he continued. "Hey, umm, could I ask you to find the gang and introduce Skuf to their dragons? I forgot I need to, umm, yeah."

Hiccup leaped onto Toothless and they immediately launched into the sky, darting off towards the sea. Skuf could see Toothless enter a vertical climb, stretching his wings as far as he could and beating them with all his might.

"What... was that all about?" Astrid asked. "Also, what in Thor's name is a benevolent zealot?"

Skuf froze in confusion for a moment, then realized she was referring to the names the dragons gave their riders still written on the slate. He casually rubbed the chalk off. Observing her reaction to hearing her "dragon name" would be entertaining only to those who were not within striking distance.

As for her first question, the reason Hiccup felt the need to suddenly fly off was obvious. Skuf simply watched with a smile plastered on his face as the dragon and his rider separated from high up in the sky, free-falling. They calmly twirled around each other as the wind whipped past them, then Hiccup hooked himself into the saddle and they swooped up again.

If a person's emotions is a hum, Skuf thought to himself, then those two were humming the most beautiful duet he had ever heard.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading and an especially hearty slap on the back for the feedback.

NitroExpress - I completely agree that it would be pretty cool for Hiccup to be able to hear his dragon. Skuf, you better live up to your promise! *Shakes fist in air* You hear me?!

Calvin - Oops, I completely forgot to mention Skuf's age. Thanks for the catch! I updated chapter 1 accordingly for future readers. I got Skuf pegged at 20… getting close to middle-aged for a Viking around 900 AD. As for where this story fits in the RTTE chronology, I dunno exactly. How long after the first movie is that one episode where Dagur signs the peace treaty on Berk? This story is probably a bit later than that episode because I'm giving the Hooligans a more progressive path to embracing dragon neighbors. Fire and fangs are all they've seen for at least fifteen generations after all.


	5. Released

**5 - Released**

Some nightmares never end. At least, that was how things seemed for a certain sad, forlorn dragon as he watched the shadows slowly, ever so slowly, crawl up the stone walls. The sun had grown tired and was starting to fall into the ocean to rest, giving the shadows the confidence to rise up and claim the land.

It was the most entertaining thing he saw all day long, just like almost every other day.

Skullcrusher couldn't wait until he was able to kill something again. At least, he determined that _must_ be his name because any time a land-strider looked at him and made their guttural sounds they seem to use for communication when thinking with their lips, they always project imagery of his paws crushing a desiccated skull to dust. It was quite fitting considering the dragon lives up to his name on the occasions he gets to fight a land-strider.

Today, though, was turning into yet another maddeningly boring day of unwanted inward reflection. He thought about his past, as was his usual fallback routine when there was nothing to see, nothing to eat, nothing to do, and nowhere to go. For most of his life, he had been living a nightmare. Not _in_ a nightmare. No, this was far worse. The nightmare had been the soul and substance of his life. The very essence of misery permeated every scale of his being.

The former part of his nightmare started the day he cracked his egg. His mind was never his own. It was _hers_. The queen. That filthy demon! The dragons were all mindless thralls under her mind snare. She couldn't be troubled to hunt for herself, so she made dragons raid the land-strider nests and haul back food. If she was still hungry afterward, she would make the older dragons fly right into her massive maw. The most aggravating thing was that, while under her mind snare, it was all quite euphoric.

However, that nightmare did eventually end. The queen was mad. She lost her grip on her dragons. The haze in Skullcrusher's mind parted to reveal the ugly truth. Taking advantage of his newly acquired free will, he escaped alongside the other dragons, fleeing from the demon that had ensnared his mind. He scattered away as fast as his wings could carry him, heedless of where he went.

He did not fly for long, though, before he found his wings and legs ensnared in some sort of vines and land-striders poured around him. He escaped one nightmare only to fall and be thrust into another. It was a dreary place full of stone, iron, starvation, and pain. Still, this prison was better than having no free will. Never again did he ever hear the call of the damned demon again.

It was times like this, when all he could do was dwell on the past, that he wished he was a land-strider, who seem to have a knack for forgetting things all the time. A perfect memory can be quite the burden to bare. He'd even settle for the ability land-striders seem to possess of inventing new memories. Then, he could imagine he wasn't stuck in this miserable place.

Skullcrusher let out a heavy sigh that sounded from deep in his chest as he lay on the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust around his cage from the air forced out of his large nostrils. One of the land-striders that usually walks past his prison briefly looked at him, startled by the noise, only to go back to whatever he was doing.

On some occasions, Skullcrusher's life would become infinitely more interesting for a short moment. He could tell when such an event was approaching when they stopped feeding him for a few cycles of the sun, causing him to become ravenously hungry. At the peak of starvation, when he was desperate enough to start gnawing on stone, he would gain access into some larger cage, but that would remind him of his exodus from the queen's mind snare: out of one prison and into another. There would always be a land-strider inside there with him, wearing removable scales and carapace and holding a shiny claw that glinted in the sunlight. Sometimes, there were two or three.

All Skullcrusher could see was prey to kill and eat. Most of his prey exuded an aura of fear and regret. Skullcrusher could relate to the regret and the land-striders had every reason to fear. They would fight back, of course, but in such an enclosed space, their speed and wit counted for almost nothing. Their shiny claws would just bounce off the hard carapace plates that protected his head and neck. Their cries for mercy always fell on deaf ears as he impaled them with his horns, crushed them against the ground, or tore them apart with his teeth. Sometimes, just for fun, he would even tenderize them with the massive lump of spikes at the end of his tail.

There would always be many land-striders watching from above, beyond the iron web that held the dragon in. They would watch and roar and mewl at the spectacle, reminding themselves of just how dangerous a dragon can be when bored to insanity and starved to the brink of death. Land-striders never tasted good, but at least they were filling.

However, one day, something happened that was very… different. The sky beyond the iron web was dark and angry and the rain fell heavy, but that was not too uncommon for that season. The prey he was presented that day, though, was unlike any other. The little thing exuded the usual fear of most of his prey, but this one also had some strange presence of mind that demanded attention. Skullcrusher sensed something he had never noticed on any other land-strider. There it was, plain as day. An emotion that stole his breath away and stopped him in his tracks mid-charge. It drained all of his rage in an instant and absolutely defeated him.

Pity.

This creature felt pity. Not for himself. For Skullcrusher!

Skullcrusher had no clue how to respond to _that_. He was not just hungry; he was starving. Even the iron web above looked appetizing. However, he could not bring himself to charge at this beautiful creature.

This land-strider felt pity for the dragon...

Did he even know that Skullcrusher's life was a sequence of nightmares? Was his mind damaged? He _must_ know how this is supposed to go. Land-strider attacks dragon. Dragon is unphased. Land-strider attempts in vain to flee. Dragon kills land-strider. Dragon eats land-strider. Simplicity itself!

Instead, the land-strider just threw his shiny claw to the side and sat down against the stone wall, accepting his fate. He was not the first to try that. Others have thought that such a gesture would grant them mercy from the starving dragon. They were wrong. _Dead_ wrong.

This one, though, was nothing like the others. Even in the face of death, this creature felt pity – not for himself, but for Skullcrusher. This was indeed a very oddly specific projection. Skullcrusher had to learn more about this land-strider and what made it so different. His devouring hunger ebbed as he was overtaken by curiosity.

As he padded his way up to his prey, he noticed that the critter did not make any sounds from his mouth. All the other prey would roar, cry out, and mewl, but not this one. He just sat there in silence, contorted in a painful-looking twisted leg position, staring at the dragon with eyes full of sorrow. Dumbfounded, Skullcrusher stood there, towering over his prey, watching the land-strider stare back at him under his waterlogged hair.

The dragon remembered that physical contact was a good way to add clarity to projected thought, allowing him to peer into the heart and soul of another. He needed to learn more about this creature, so he pressed his snout against the appendage that had previously held a shiny claw.

He expected nothing to happen. He was wrong.

At that moment, the two were connected in a way that Skullcrusher had never experienced with any land-strider before. This creature called himself the Dragon Whisperer. He said he saw dragons differently than all his fellow land-striders and realized that this imprisonment was wrong. In exchange for sparing his life, the land-strider vowed that he would free Skullcrusher when he could, although he could not commit to any time frame. If the dragon had the slightest hint of a doubt about the Dragon Whisperer's sincerity, the confrontation would have had a much bloodier ending.

However, because this prey was so unique, Skullcrusher decided he could endure hunger a little longer and spared him. He was rewarded shortly after when this Dragon Whisperer was removed from the arena and replaced by two other prey, much more plump and dripping with hatred and derision. They were mad. They were frantic.

They were _delicious_!

After that day, the Dragon Whisperer would visit Skullcrusher occasionally. With time, the land-strider's receptivity improved and he could converse with the dragon more often because he didn't require physical contact. Skullcrusher relished this distraction from his caged nightmare. He would talk about his previous nightmare, when his mind was dominated by a demon, since that was all he knew in life to talk about.

What Skullcrusher enjoyed the most about their conversations, though, was when the Dragon Whisper talked of dragons who could fly about freely, living their own lives without any interactions with land-striders. He also talked about an island where the land-striders were friends to the dragons. It was a place where the dragons chose to live with them by their own free will and not by compulsion. At least, that was the Dragon Whisperer's suspicion. He had no proof, but an opportunity was drawing near to confirm these suspicions.

However, that was all in the past. Such little comforts were now relegated to memory. It felt like a lifetime since Skullcrusher had anyone to talk to. All the other dragons were too far away to be heard and these miserable land-striders were completely deaf. Skullcrusher presently contented himself to simply enjoy the sight of the shadows slowly crawling up the wall, distorting as they progressed over the rough and uneven surface. He has done this fifteen times since he last saw the Dragon Whisperer.

Another sigh shot out of his large nostrils. The shadows had finished their slow ascent and faded away as his very small view of the sky started to darken.

Then, he felt it.

His heart jumped.

There was a presence nearby - a voice he had not heard for a while.

It was the Dragon Whisperer!

Skullcrusher roared with excitement, but the Dragon Whisperer reproached him for that. He said that he would free Skullcrusher, but needed him to be quiet. Soon after, a two-legged form materialized from the shadows and a large sack with a feast of fish was forced into his cage - more food than he had ever seen at one time, excluding his prey. The dragon hungrily devoured the meal as quietly as he could, at the insistence of his friend, while they discussed an escape plan.

 _{Dragon Whisperer! You came back! I am so glad I didn't kill you when we first met. I missed you. Life between prey is boring.}_

The land-strider smiled at his winged friend. _{It took me a while to get mobile. I have good news, though. I can set you free later tonight.}_

 _{Why not now?}_ Skullcrusher grabbed three fish at once and swallowed them whole, eager to devour everything as quickly as possible.

 _{You're not fit to fly. You need some time to digest the food. Also, I need to find that young, little female. You remember her, right? She's the other one who can also hear dragons.}_

Skullcrusher gagged on a fish. _{The Little Butterfly. I like her! But unlike you, she cannot hear me unless she's touching me.}_

He had also noticed that she makes those guttural, sing-song noises that all the other land-striders make to communicate when she talked to him, but her projections were as crisp and clean as a dragon's. He figured it must help her focus her thoughts or maybe it's just a habit.

As Skullcrusher inhaled the fish, the Dragon Whisperer scanned the area, looking for any other land-striders that would interrupt them. He spared a moment to flick his eyes towards his winged accomplice.

 _{She's getting better. It will take time. Can you fly?}_

 _{I cannot tell for certain. I can fly the very short distance to my prey and I do so whenever I can, but I haven't flown any more than that since I was put in this damnable cage.}_

 _{I think you should be fine.}_ The Dragon Whisperer sounded confident. _{The leaves have hardly fallen from the trees twice since you landed in there. You couldn't have lost too much. Besides, there's a reason I chose this night. I think you can rest after a short flight if you are willing to fight off a few land-striders.}_

Skullcrusher licked his maw at the thought. _{Only if I get to eat them.}_

After a short time, the fish was all gone. The Dragon Whisperer promised to return later that night. After watching him fade away into the shadows, Skullcrusher paced around his small cage, channeling his excitement into the beat of his legs and wings.

Later that night, one of the land-striders stared at Skullcrusher, curious at this display of pacing back and forth and beating his wings against the walls of the cage. Then, his face went blank as a small, shiny claw was pressed into his throat. Skullcrusher had to admit he really admired those small shiny claws. They were so effective on these fleshy creatures.

The Dragon Whisperer stepped forward and leaned against the cage. _{The area is clear.}_ He shook the blood off of his claw and wiped it clean on his victim's arm. _{Do you remember her?}_

As the Dragon Whisperer bent down to remove a shiny carapace from the head of his prey, a little female land-strider ran past, jumped over the prey, and slid her small frame between the bars of the cage. The Dragon Whisperer looked up suddenly, startled by such a sudden move, but Skullcrusher bowed his head to his friend as she hugged his maw. He was still covered in sticky blood from a fight only the other day, but Butterfly was never concerned by such trivial things.

Skullcrusher gave her a lick. _{How can I forget my Little Butterfly?}_

 _{I am not a butterfly!}_ the Little Butterfly insisted as she made a face at the dragon. _{I don't have wings. Besides, I've told you my name is-}_ and then she continued in her vocal singsong way.

Perhaps the noise of her name made sense to these land-striders, but Skullcrusher could not discern anything intelligible from her projected thoughts aside from the fact that she was referring to herself. However, he didn't care at all and gently nuzzled his Little Butterfly, watching the curls of her golden red hair dance with the puffs of air from his nostrils. Each strand delicately caught a glow of the moon's light above.

 _{Are you up for a flight?}_ the Dragon Whisperer asked as he turned some artifact that opened the cage. Skullcrusher noticed his friend was now wearing the removable scales and carapace from his prey to take on his appearance. Interesting. Maybe clever, but definitely interesting.

 _{Yes. We'll see what little strength I still have in my wings.}_

Skullcrusher squeezed out of the opening to his cage and into the arena. Slowly extending his wings to their fullest, he craned his neck around to look down the length of his body to inspect his physical condition. He had never done this before, but it was clear that strength was lacking from all the inactivity. There was definitely some rippling in the musculature along his ribs as he beat his wings up and down, but it felt... lacking. While his legs didn't seem to be too weak, the scaled hide clung with a death grip to the strands of muscles along his flank.

Finishing his self-inspection, Skullcrusher shifted his gaze to the prey in front of him, lying face-down in its own blood. He resisted the temptation to hungrily devour it since his friend killed it and deserves it more than him.

Instead, he bent his head down and licked at the blood dribbling out of the prey's neck, just so it wouldn't go to waste. _{Are you going to eat this or can I?}_

The Dragon Whisperer was moving to open the arena gate that presumably led to ultimate freedom. He puffed his cheeks as he turned something that allowed access to the outside world and spared a glance at his hungry escapee. _{No, and neither are you. You need quick energy, not a heavy meal that will put you to sleep.}_

Skullcrusher plaintively prodded and gnawed at the prey, coyly sinking his teeth in, but the Dragon Whisperer frowned. Eating so much red meat would make him sleepy and he knew it, but the prey was so delicious and… and… _there_! It took a great focus of will to restrain himself.

The Dragon Whisperer continued, _{I will have more fish for you soon, but this prey will only make flying more difficult. Trust me.}_

Skullcrusher snorted his annoyance, but the Dragon Whisperer went on, regardless. {You are now free to leave _. Be careful to avoid anybody else or you will be shot down and captured again. Before you go, may I ask you to carry us with you?}_

The dragon pawed at the stone floor, confused. Their weight wouldn't even be noticeable compared to his own bulk. While under the demonic queen's mind snare, he had carried land-striders back from the islands they raid to feed her, most of them much bigger than his two friends put together. He twisted one of his front legs around next to his head and flexed his claws experimentally.

 _{I'd be happy to take you with me and spare you from this accursed place. However, I don't think I would be able to carry you. Not without hurting you. My claws aren't large enough to wrap around your body without digging into your flesh.}_

Skullcrusher suddenly felt the Little Butterfly crawling up his tail, giggling all the way. He resisted the reflexive urge to shake her off since he really liked her and he knew she was harmless up there.

 _{Not in your claws, silly.}_ The Little Butterfly radiated mirth. _{That would hurt! We could sit on your back.}_

The Dragon Whisperer confirmed this as he projected memories of dragons he had seen with land-striders riding on the top of their backs or necks. It would seem he had been to this island where dragons are friends to land-striders and both parties enjoy flying together.

 _{You are welcome to my back, then,} Skullcrusher said. {You save me from this cage and I shall deliver you from this depressing place.}_

He turned to his friend and was about to lower himself to allow him to climb up, but snarled with shock and anger at the sight of an instrument of subjugation. It rested in the Dragon Whisperer's hands, coiling with malice, like a serpent ready to strike. The dragon's eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he suddenly jumped back, eliciting a startled cry from the Little Butterfly on his back. It took him a moment to realize that he was growling threateningly and clawing at the stone below. That thing reminded him of his capture and enslavement by the land-striders - a transition from nightmare to nightmare. It represented bondage and others having control over him.

However, the reassuring calm from the Dragon Whisperer quelled his doubts. _{Easy, Skullcrusher. I need to put this vine around you so that we can stay on your back. Without it, we would simply fall to our deaths. It's the only way to take us with you without injuring or killing us.}_

Skullcrusher grunted and sniffed at it suspiciously. It smelled like salt and rock. He liked these two land-striders and wanted to deliver them from this depressing place, but he feared such things that bind and restrict. Still, if it would help them to avoid falling to their deaths so high in the sky...

He huffed his consent and stood still, allowing the Dragon Whisperer to loop the thing around his neck and forelegs. Picking up a silent cue, he crouched down on his stubby legs, resting his belly and chin against the ground. The Dragon Whisperer vaulted up, grabbing the edges of the carapace plates to climb up to the back.

Skullcrusher craned his head to the side to watch the Dragon Whisperer settle himself down and sit the Little Butterfly in his lap, using the vines to secure them in place. Seeing such a thing made him wonder whether his friends were bound to him or if he was bound to his friends.

 _Who controls who?_

His musings were interrupted by the Dragon Whisperer. _{We are ready, Skullcrusher. Your freedom lies just beyond. Before we go, I have one more small favor to ask of you. If the body of this prey I killed is found here with a gash from my own shiny claw, my friends may suffer unwanted consequences. Grab that prey and take it with you. We'll drop it in the ocean after some time - I'll tell you when. }_

Skullcrusher looked up at his cargo as he plodded to the prey. _{Are these the friends of dragons? The land-striders who do not trap or kill?}_

The Dragon Whisperer smiled and nodded as he affectionately thumped Skullcrusher's carapace plates with his fist. _{Yes, I think you will like them. I'll show you where to fly to rest, eat, and plan where you want to go from there.}_

With the prey that sadly will not be eaten securely held in his maw, Skullcrusher cautiously crouched through the gate, mindful that his riders on top don't bump their heads.

 _{I want to go anywhere that isn't here, Dragon Whisperer. You tell me where to go and I'll take you there.}_

With that, Skullcrusher took a deep breath of cold air in his nostrils and leaped into the air, beating his wings into the night.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Well, this one took a bit longer than the others. Don't worry, I know _exactly_ how to handle this. I've read lots of other fanfics from different websites, so let me give this a shot.

Ahem!

 _Hello, fellow Night Furballs. It's me, FizzleMcSchnizzle. Sorry this chapter is late. Life happened and stuff. On that note, though, if you could give me more stars and comments, it would really, ya know, stroke my ego. Oops! I really meant to say it'd help me find the motivation to keep on writing this story. What can I say, I'm a servant to the public! Let's all try to get me up to 10% more likes than I currently have. You can do it! I'll see you next time!_

Ach! Uggh! Night _furball_?! Yeah, sorry. I really dunno what got into me, there. Anyway, I think that's about how an author's note is supposed to go. Not here so much as elsewhere.

For realsies, thank you for reading and I really do take all feedback to heart, whether it's a pat on the back or a slap in the face. Last chapter, I was 45% convinced to remove that whole first-person Toothless POV part, but then I started playing with it and considering ways to make it less of a dumb, derpy, drivel. I kinda felt it turned out alright, I guess, but hearing that some people got a kick out of it really made my day. Writing silly little stories has been an interesting little hobby and the fact that you think it's worth your time to read my stuff tickles me pink.

Now go run outside or do your homework and stuff! I wanna see your TPS report on my desk tomorrow morning - and don't forget the cover sheet! :P


	6. Retrieved

**6 - Retrieved**

Stoick let out a long whistling exhale as he watched a black form shrink into the horizon. The bright sun was waning, but it was only mid-afternoon and the weather was beautiful, so the departing Night Fury and company should have no trouble flying to their destination. The council agreed that sending them off would be a good idea, as did Stoick, but he just couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It has been two weeks since his son's harrowing ordeal with Dagur. Stoick blamed only himself that this situation arose in the first place. Berserkers on _his_ island. _Sneaking_ around at that! The Hooligans have become too lax and careless since the dragon war ended. Needless to say, patrols all around the island were increased significantly since then. Vikings and dragons alike could use the exercise, anyway.

That night, Hiccup showed Stoick where all the action had happened so they could both piece together clues about this most unusual prisoner. Gobber oozed all over the workmanship of Skuf's daggers and sword that they found at the edge of the woods, but the journal revealed a lot about the decay of Berserker Island after Dagur seized power.

Stoick already heard much of it from gossip among traders and travelers. The Berserkers have always been focused on conquest. They had a strong military, expansive fleet, and were skilled in hand-to-hand combat. However, when the dragon raids intensified dramatically about twenty years ago, they were forced to re-prioritize.

Oswald the Agreeable's rule as chieftain was a breath of fresh air that arguably saved the entire tribe from extinction. It was he who backed off on their conquest efforts and instead focus on defending and rebuilding their home island. The tribe was forced to give up possession of some valuable outlying islands that had an abundance of ore veins, but only a fool dies for gold. He even commissioned a pure gold statue of a dragon impaled on a sword that now hung in the Grand Hall in exchange for training from the Hooligans in dragon-fighting tactics.

Oswald may have been a bit odd, but he was no fool.

They still kept their slaves, of course, but slave trade had dried up as a consequence of their focused efforts on repelling the dragon raids. Furthermore, you can't put a weapon in a slave's hand to go fight dragons the same way you toss them into a mine with a pick. Not only could they not be trusted to fight dragons, naturally, but able-bodied men would have to watch over them. In addition, they would need to be fed from the stores that survived the dragon attacks. Suffice to say the grounds of that island drank up a lot of unnecessary blood.

However, with the dragon raids ended over a year ago, the scene was primed for Oswald to be labeled as "old-fashioned" and "stagnant" so that some devious upstart, like Dagur, had little trouble organizing his takeover of leadership and restarting their conquest, slave trade, and mining operations.

Stoick couldn't help but agree with Skuf's suspicion that Dagur's new fascination with dragons would make his desire to control them the next big move. If Dagur had a substantial dragon army, would there be anyone who could refuse to bow a knee to him? Plucking up unsuspecting villagers couldn't be easier on the back of a dragon. Also, besieging fortified positions would become much more plausible with the mobility the beasts would offer. With the resources the Berserkers could sling around, a combined assault from sea, land, and air would be very formidable.

Dagur has been working with the Outcast and Lava Lout tribes to try to find ways to subdue and control the dragons they capture and put in cages, but there has been no noteworthy success to date. The apothecaries were full of empty promises, the dragons naturally would never accept subjugation, and breaking their bodies and spirits result in something very useless. Unless someone gets a pet Red Death, Stoick was confident he had no immediate scaled threats with how much the dragons in the area seemed to respect Hiccup and Toothless. Still, one should prepare for future possibilities.

The thing Dagur failed to realize was that dragons simply were never meant to be battle hounds or a war horses. To try to mold them into such goes against the very fiber of the natural world. Skuf saw this as clear as day and it took him a while to come to terms with seeing the riders playing tag high in the sky on their dragons. The beasts have always been free to fly off if they so desired, but they chose to stick to their riders. Why? One could only speculate, but Stoick was just glad it provided excuses to get the riders to take on responsibilities more willingly, like patrolling the coasts.

Skuf said he wanted to have absolutely nothing to do with Dagur's plots and such a claim became more credible with each passing day. His claim that he could commune with dragons was verified beyond any doubt. Toothless' counting was only the vibration that started an avalanche of tests.

The fact that the Night Fury acted so friendly and protective towards Skuf was a sign the Council couldn't ignore. Toothless certainly wasn't the village overlord, which was a funny conjecture Skuf was wondering about that first day he woke up, but it did demonstrate that Skuf had a certain connection to dragons. The beast was often seen with Skuf and Hiccup and even licked the gash in Skuf's leg. For the most part, only Hiccup ever got that dragon's tongue and not even Astrid would get more than a poke of the snout as a "Hello".

As Skuf's leg started to heal and he engaged in sparring with the Hooligans - the best way to make friends, of course - he discovered that he may have found his niche to occupy his time when he wasn't acting as the dragon translator. The past five days were filled with Skuf demonstrating the more delicate art of fighting competent swordsmen.

For their whole lives, Hooligans were used to killing dragons, which were larger and stronger than any Viking, but slower, too. Being so close to the dragon nest, Berk was never the target of any serious _Viking_ raids with the frequency of dragon attacks and the relatively impossible-to-siege coastline that the tall, jagged cliffs afforded. In fact, before Stoick's time, it is said that the frequent dragon raids have actually laid waste to a couple invading armadas en-route to Berk.

The large Vikings would always go for the heavy weapons and prefer a big wind-up over a quick jab. A light blow would only glance off scales, but could kill a man if the blade found the right spot. Parrying and dodging were quaint in their eyes when they preferred to block, draining their stamina. It was simply instinct and reflex to dodge a dragon, but it took some discipline to consider a "cute little sword" to be a significant strain. Even though he was a mute, Skuf's demonstrations, aided by occasional scribbles on his slate board, showed the Hooligans the advantages of fighting with a little more tact.

His fighting style quickly gained the widely-used label: "dance of the annoying wasp." Learning to deal with him would drive his students mad with rage, which would only exhaust them with nothing but bruises to show for it. He had written on the wall of the training ring, "Honorable swordsmen killed by a dishonorable insect." Below that, Skuf scratched in a running tally that lengthened every day.

Granted, it was usually only after a prolonged sparring session that people would start to get sloppy. The little devil would always drag it out to frayed nerves. Dragon raids were quick and frantic. You either kill the dragons, they kill you, or all the above. They were explosions of steel and claws, fury and fire. In contrast, the length of time that this short swordsman would drag out a sparring match was simply appalling. Next to Skuf's tally, someone wrote, "Spectators who fell asleep watching Skuf drags out a spar until Ragnarok." The two tallies were neck-and-neck.

Skuf had even started to teach Hiccup to take advantage of his light frame by parrying, deflecting, and dodging. With his long-standing reputation as being a weak and timid pushover, that spawn-of-Loki son of Stoick had a knack for drawing rage out of his opponents, causing them to tire themselves out with uncoordinated and overpowered strokes. Astrid was a rare exception, of course, even though she wouldn't deign to drop her ax for a sword. She didn't hurt him too badly.

Hiccup did have a milestone moment, though, when sparring with Snotlout using blunted weapons. Snotlout had worked himself into a blind rage, swinging his broadsword in wide arcs as he charged into each attack. After Hiccup danced around the umpteenth power-stroke, Snotlout was completely expended. Hiccup slapped his angry, exhausted, and enraged peer on the arm with the flat of his slender training sword and dryly commented, "Man, I'm starting to break a sweat!"

Skuf grinned as he scanned the crowd and scratched two tallies, one under each heading.

Aside from sparring, Skuf had discussed with Hiccup his desire to free a certain dragon of his from Berserker Island. The fact that said dragon was of a species Hiccup had never seen before certainly helped to persuade him. The council decided that such a jailbreak mission would be a breach to the peace treaty on the account of stealing property, but if done right, the Berserkers would think some fool from their own tribe let the dragon out of its cage, allowing it to fly away. If the mission went bad, there would be very little risk of any connection being made to Berk. What really sold the council, though, was the promise of valuable information Skuf could filch while on the island to better prepare for the coming storm.

Stoick had entertained the idea that maybe Skuf was still loyal to the Berserker tribe and would take any information he gathered about Berk there, but the council ruled that out as highly improbable because Skuf's journal entries showed he was confident of tamed dragons on Berk as far back as when the peace treaty was signed two weeks before he "rode" the Night Fury. The chief agreed to the mission only on the terms that Hiccup and his dragon would be the only ones going with Skuf and that they would not get directly involved. All they would do is take Skuf to the island and fly him out of there without being detected. After all, Hiccup, in his dark flying gear, on top of a Night Fury, would be invisible as long as they went during the night under cover of darkness.

In the end, Stoick was satisfied that the reward justified the risk. Many suspicious eyes were already cast towards Berk and this information Skuf could acquire from the stolen documents could help Berk avoid a war or, at least, prepare for it better. Hiccup would be safe as the chief made him swear that he would not land on the island except to drop off Skuf and pick him up under cover of darkness and only in a safe spot. The boy could be trusted to obey.

However, even these precautions did little to ease the burden of knowing his son was out there with nothing to protect him but a dragon and a man the tribe had only recently taken in, all alone in the dark.

Stoick never liked the dark. It was in the dark of night that he lost his beloved wife. All things bad seem to happen at night.

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* * *

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The darkness of night always helped Hiccup feel at ease. Before Toothless came along, it was, by far, the greatest provider of mercy and comfort. Growing up on Berk, the darkness was a kind cloak to shield him from the things he sought to avoid in life.

Hiccup had always been the least in everything that defined a Viking. His father would always give him looks of disappointment whenever he saw his son struggle to lift an ax or when a wooden target dummy would defeat him in battle. Hiccup always took abuse from his peers throughout the day as he did his training and chores. Any act of defiance to a sound beating was met with only more pain and he quickly learned to be divisive and manipulative just to survive. The sunlight of day always beat down the diminutive boy physically, mentally, and emotionally.

However, the darkness of night brought relief. It hid the world from Hiccup and, more importantly, hid Hiccup from the world. Under its protection, he was free to express himself in ways he would never dare under the sun. He would wander off by himself, blissfully lost in his thoughts and musings without people around to judge him.

The darkness was the siren's call that sent everyone to bed, granting Hiccup time to find a quiet corner to sketch his dreams. At certain times of the year, on walks through the woods, the darkness of night would yield the most mesmerizing sights of uncountable Fireflies lazily flickering their lights. Even the sky would put on a captivating display of shifting colors and shooting stars that would put any person in utterly slack-jawed awe if they only had the patience to stare long enough.

In the familiar embrace of night, Hiccup shot down his best friend, back before they united to destroy the Red Death. The cozy shroud of the dark clouds was what had turned the tides of battle when he and Toothless engaged the enemy, gaining the ability to hide and strike out repeatedly, precisely where they wanted to, instead of simply struggling to survive. The solace of night was always Hiccup's favorite time to fly with his best friend, who was a _Night_ Fury after all.

However, the darkness of the night did little to soothe him as he sat atop the back of Toothless, circling over Berserker Island.

He had dropped off Skuf in the middle of a forest a short distance from the town after the sun went down. They agreed to meet up halfway through the night, which would place the moon around the bottom edge of Odin's beard. Rider and dragon had passed the time by landing on a tall sea stack a short distance from Berserker Island to just loaf about and watch the scenery.

There wasn't much for Hiccup to see besides the dimly lit waves below and the stars above, so he spent most of that time idly telling his dragon about the constellations he knew. At one point, he saw a pod of whales skimming under the water, flipping their tails up into the air as they went. If he pressed his ear and palms to the rock, he could swear he almost felt and heard the vibrations from the subsonic calls of those beautiful creatures. Toothless even joined his rider in such an activity and Hiccup so desperately wanted to hear if his dragon could pick up anything noteworthy.

Finally, the appointed time was approaching, so Hiccup and his dragon got up, stretched, and flew off to circle high above Berserker Island.

"What'cha see down there, Bud?" he idly asked.

They were high up and flying in wide circles around what must be the arena that housed their escapee. Toothless' large, cat-like eyes would have no trouble tracking the activity below, but Hiccup could not see much that wasn't directly under a torch as he peered over the front of the dragon's wing.

The Night Fury gave a non-committal grunt as he continued his lazy circles.

"I promise, Bud, I'll learn to hear you, someday. Unless Skuf was born with magical fairy dust that gave him this ability, I'll figure it out."

Toothless crooned softly between deep inhales as Hiccup patted his head. He and Skuf were clearly having a conversation with those unspoken words on the way over. The man had written down some things to keep Hiccup in the loop, but it did inspire an amount of jealousy.

"Just let me know when you see the dragon out of his cage."

Sometime later, Toothless gave a sharp, low grunt. Hiccup nudged his dragon lower and leaned over his wing. Below, a large green dragon with red highlights stood in the center of the arena, tentatively flapping his wings, as if testing them. This must be the Rumblehorn that Skuf had written about and drawn. The people on Berserker Island called him Skullcrusher in a most Viking show of clever naming. Hiccup could not see much more detail than that, but he prayed to Thor that Skuf remembered to put a rope around that dragon. He didn't want to have to catch him in free-fall.

Toothless gave another grunt and Hiccup could see Skullcrusher outside the arena, which was located on a bluff over the sea. Skullcrusher was starting to leap off the edge with his wings spread. Hiccup thought he saw a second head on top of that dragon's back, but couldn't be certain. If there was, he would have something to say about it. He did not like surprises introduced into his plans, especially with how desperately he wanted to impress his father as a responsible young man.

A sudden jerk to the side snapped Hiccup back to the present as he clicked Toothless' tail fin into position.

"Yeah, let's go get 'em, Bud."

The dragon and rider duo entered a glide to catch up to Skullcrusher. As they drew close, Hiccup noticed something large fall from the dragon's mouth, but in the dark, he couldn't tell what it was. Toothless, on the other hand, could see quite well and seemed to be upset about it. However, Hiccup forgot about that when he saw Skuf broadly waving an arm at him.

Skullcrusher gave a start when he first saw the Night Fury. The two dragons went through some chuffs and grunts Hiccup had learned to be a casual greeting. He knew dragons could talk to each other with the unspoken words Skuf had talked about, so maybe they were introducing themselves to each other. What, exactly, they were saying was a mystery.

To his great surprise and dismay, he heard a little girl's voice.

"You're right, Skullcrusher. That _must_ be the Night Fury from the demon's lair... No, I've never met him before... well tell him his name is Skuf or Dragon Whisperer, not Badger... and that he's not insane! He's just... resourceful and determined."

The little girl held in Skuf's lap crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at Toothless, who responded with a chortle.

Hiccup groaned as he looked over at the pair "Skuf, what happened to just you and your dragon? Who is this? This wasn't part of our plan."

Skuf and the little girl looked over at Hiccup and the girl spoke up, pleading, "Please, sir. Uncle Skuf just could not leave me behind. I promise I'll be quiet and I don't eat much. They won't even know I'm missing since children from the orphanage run away all the time only to be found dead in the wilderness or washed up on the shore. If it weren't for uncle Skuf, that probably would have happened to me already."

Hiccup felt an arrow pierce his heart, violently slicing through his reservations. "You're an orphan?"

The little girl seemed a little sadder, but still in control of herself. "Yessir, Mr. dragon rider sir. My mother died on my birthday and my father died a year ago in the Oswald Coup."

Hiccup could see Skuf make a fist and angrily strike one of the carapace plates on Skullcrusher's neck, which the dragon didn't even seem to notice.

The little girl continued, a little quieter. "Really, uncle Skuf, please stop beating yourself up over that. You said you asked Oswald to allow you to... it doesn't _matter_ that you weren't there. You would be dead, too, if you were, you silly man!" Then, speaking up again, "No, Skullcrusher, the Night Fury won't mind control you like the demon queen. I bet he is the one who freed you and the other dragons in the first place. Be nice and say thank you."

Hiccup slapped his face, groaning. Then, shouted over to Skuf. "Well, if you're gonna – gods, I can't believe we're really doing this. We should get her on Toothless."

Skuf nodded in agreement.

"Ummm, hold her above your head, we'll come in above. Little girl, would you mind if I fly above you and grab you?"

 _Suave_ , Hiccup thought to himself. _Of course she would mind! What kind of child would want to be tossed from dragon to dragon high up in the sky? It would be absolutely terrifying and-_

"That sounds fun!" she shouted with excitement as Skuf lifted her up to his shoulder. "Weeee!"

Eventually, Hiccup found his tongue and shouted over to Skuf, "Just make sure Skullcrusher flies steady. Have him glide as we make our approach from behind."

The young Hooligan tightened down the leather straps connecting the shoulders of his flight harness to the saddle and twisted around to hook another strap to the back of his harness, along his waistline. This allowed him to hang upside down in the saddle with both hands free, but still gave him some mobility to lean forward.

Digging his feet hard into the stirrups to test how the straps held him down, he said to Toothless, "Alright, Bud, just like we've practiced. Go upside-down and keep it smooth and steady. See, I told you we weren't just goofing off - we were training!"

Hiccup kicked the tail fin into a new position as they backed off behind Skullcrusher and gained some altitude. When they were in position, Toothless locked his wings out and started to glide down, trading altitude for speed.

As they approached Skullcrusher, Toothless gave one hard flap of his wings to gain some upward momentum while twisting his aileron fins to roll upside-down, allowing Hiccup to reach up and grab the outstretched girl, pulling her tightly to his chest. It wasn't really flying or even gliding as a dragon has nowhere near the necessary muscle mass nor the skeletal support for actual inverted flight, but it was more like a controlled free-fall as they arced past the zenith of their upward path.

With the girl secure in Hiccup's lap, the Night Fury gracefully slid just in front of the other dragon's wing and rolled over again to take up a position in front.

"Great job, Bud!" Hiccup rubbed the top of his dragon's head, who let out a joyful bark in between heavy breaths.

Hiccup lowered the little girl to his lap and placed a protective arm around her. She was young, not even a teen, and was bundled up in a heavy blanket with a yak hide wrapped around for protection from the cold wind. At least Skuf remembered that little detail about flying. The little girl leaned forward and affectionately placed her hands on Toothless.

The rider couldn't help but smile as she started giggling suddenly and he asked, "What do you think of the Night Fury? Quite a bit more maneuverable in the air than Skullcrusher, eh?"

The little girl glanced back with a big smile on her face, before going back to hugging Toothless. "Your voice is so pretty... No tooth? Oh, No Teeth? Nice to meet you, Mr. No Teeth sir. I'm Tofa, but Skullcrusher calls me Little Butterfly... I dunno, it's starting to grow on me. I figured since he saved me, he gets to name me, right? ...Firefly? I like it. Better name than Badger, but I guess it kinda fits. He is wily with his shiny claws... That's how Skullcrusher views swords - tee hee hee."

She turned to Hiccup. "I love him, Mr. Firefly sir!"

The rider was dumbstruck for a moment. "You just... You're... How did... You can hear dragons?"

Tofa looked up at Hiccup, peeking out from under the blanket wrapped around her, and smiled widely. For the first time, Hiccup noticed some light freckling on her face. Her red hair was long and straight, but in desperate need of washing. Hiccup grimaced at the lack of care the orphanage seemed to give her, but at least her teeth appeared to be in good condition.

"Yessir, Mr. Firefly sir. He has such a pretty voice. He hums the sweetest tune."

Toothless warbled happily at that.

"I meant your unspoken words, but your song is nice, too."

Hiccup looked over at Skuf, who turned to face him and simply shrugged with a look of feigned innocence on his face that was probably intentionally unconvincing.

Looking down at the little girl, he said, "Well, Ms. Tofa, it's nice to meet you. I'm Hiccup. I like the Firefly name, but it would probably confuse most people on Berk who haven't learned my... uhh... _dragon_ name."

Hiccup suddenly stared ahead as something dawned on him.

 _Wait, why did I even_ mention _the_ idea _of her coming to Berk?_

Tofa hugged Hiccup's arm that was wrapped around her. "Nice to meet you, too, Hiccup. Thank you thank you for taking me with you! I love No Teeth and I love you!"

With a melted heart, Hiccup decided he would keep her with him on their journey back to Berk. It's not like the decision whether to keep her would be in his hands, anyway.

"Actually, his name is Toothless, but No Teeth is really close."

Then, speaking up, "Alright Skuf, even though this wasn't part of our plan... You _knew_ my heart would melt when I met her! I mean... _gods_! I love her already, but I really hate the way you do things, sometimes"

Skuf looked over and nodded with a grin on his face as he pantomimed scratching a tally, as he often did under that message about honor-driven swordsmen killed by the subversive and crafty. Skullcrusher gave out some sort of broken gurgling chortle through forced breaths of air. Toothless looked over and let out his signature chortling imitation of laughter and Skullcrusher did it again, but much closer, this time. Skuf seemed to be really enjoying this interaction.

Hiccup playfully slapped one of his dragon's sensor lobes. "Don't encourage them, Bud!"

Looking over at Skuf, he said, louder, "Alright, we'll take her back to Berk, but the council will have to decide on what to do. That's not my decision to make."

Hiccup looked down at Tofa. "By the way, how old are you? Ten?"

"I'm eight! Well, closer to eight-and-a-half.

Hiccup shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not that good at guessing ages."

Tofa continued to talk to Toothless in an awed voice. "Skullcrusher says he saw you as he escaped the demon island, all alone and trapped on that ship... Yes, he felt bad that he didn't help you. Firefly saved you? Awwww, that's so sweet... oh, _really_?"

Tofa leaned over to her left and looked back at Toothless' tail fin, then down at Hiccup's prosthetic leg as it worked the control mechanism, and then sheepishly at Hiccup's puzzled face. If she was anything like Skuf, Toothless could have told her his entire life's story in the blink of an eye.

She continued her seemingly one-sided conversation. "Well, now you're even, Toothless - tee hee hee. I'm sure he understands that you had to bite his leg... no, I didn't mean that you actually _bit it off_... oh... oh no, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean… to…"

Tofa started sobbing quietly in Hiccup's lap. The rider looked down at her and asked, "What's wrong, Tofa?" Then, more sternly, "What's going on, Toothless?"

The Night Fury looked back with a sad, pleading look in his eyes as Tofa spoke up between sobs. "It's my… fault sir. Toothless... didn't want... me to tell... you that he..." She stole a quick glance at Hiccup's prosthetic leg and buried her face in her hands again.

Seeing this, Hiccup casually said, "What, you mean the leg? Yeah, it was too beat up to keep after we hit the Red Death's tail. Is that what you were going on about biting?"

Tofa slowly nodded, wiping tears out of her eyes.

Hiccup went on, feeling it strange he had to plead on his dragon's behalf to a little girl he just met who could talk to dragons.

"Toothless did not harm me. He _saved_ me, in fact. I'll lose part of a leg over my life any day. Don't you worry about that, Tofa."

Tofa started to get her sobbing under control. "He... he said he had to... you were falling and he dove after you as fast as he could... he almost had you in his paws but a... sudden blast knocked you away, above his head. He couldn't twist around in time, he had to grab you somehow... Aww, don't feel bad, Mr. Toothless. He said it was alright. He probably would have died if you didn't do that. I bet Mr. Firefly doesn't like dying."

Hiccup didn't know what to say. He had the sinking feeling his dragon was using this girl to unload his grief. It's like the dragon was pouncing on this opportunity to confess something weighing on his heart and to make amends. Hiccup had no memories of what happened after impacting the Red Death's tail. He had theories about what tore up his leg so bad that it had to be amputated, but always kept it to himself. Everyone always assumed it happened from the impact. Even now, Hiccup didn't believe his dragon did any additional damage. The stirrup his foot was in would have been a death trap if it was violently jerked to the side and _that_ was secured to a dragon whose head alone weighed more than the rider.

Regardless, Hiccup loved his dragon far too much to dwell on such things. Befriending Toothless was the absolute best thing that ever happened in his life by an immeasurable degree. The dragon would always show signs of grief and remorse whenever he sniffed at the stump, though he tried to hide it. Hiccup didn't want Toothless to feel bad and so hid the throbbing pain he would sometimes feel in his stump.

He rubbed his dragon's neck in slow circles, feeling upset that this came up now and also guilty that this _still_ bothered Toothless. How many days did Toothless toss and turn, only to give up on sleeping? How many times did Hiccup wake up to hear stories of the Night Fury tearing around the forest, up and down trees, diving into the sea and out again, then in again, out, up, down. Forever and without pause until the dragon returned completely shaking from exhaustion. How much grief could Toothless have been spared if he could pour out his heart with more than just croons and licks and purrs? How much did Hiccup's beloved dragon suffer simply because his rider was deaf?

Hiccup groaned "Gods, Toothless, I never realized this bothered you so much."

Toothless whined. Pleading with his dragon certainly wouldn't be the right response to the dragon trying to make amends, right?

Hiccup tried a different angle. "C'mon, Bud, you _saved_ my _life_! I'd easily give an arm and a leg for _that_ , so I got off easy. Besides, trolls always steal the _left_ sock. So, I'm now troll-proof!"

Toothless let out a long moan as if sighing. "You are my best friend... and I would never think anything bad about you, Bud. You know that, right? Please don't feel bad about that. I don't want you to be sad because it makes me sad to know _you're_ sad."

"Toothless says he's sorry about making you sad."

Hiccup sighed. "Thanks, Tofa. C'mon, Bud, let's get our head back in the game, here."

Looking over at Skuf, he spoke up. "By the way, how's Skullcrusher doing? He looks a little winded."

Said dragon maintained a steady beat with his wings, but his breathing seemed to be very labored.

Tofa spoke up. "Toothless says that Skullcrusher says that he just hasn't flown for a while and is just getting used to the feeling again. However, landing soon would not be a bad idea. Also, Toothless says he sees the boat up ahead. He can recognize the Outcast crest on the sail."

Hiccup looked shocked. "You can relay messages like that, Bud? _And_ recognize tribal crests? I never imagined... I mean I knew you were smart, but..."

Toothless shot an offended look back at his rider, who stuck out his tongue in response. Hiccup took a couple deep breaths, steeling himself for what was to come.

"You got that, Skuf?"

Skuf nodded.

"I cannot risk being seen – that was made very clear by the council... and I'm not really a fighter anyway, even if I can dance around Lout. It's all you and Skullcrusher."

Hiccup still didn't like this. They could still land on a small island he knew about nearby that had a cave for shelter. Skullcrusher could rest up and they could just island-hop back to home. However, there was a reason they took off from Berserker island towards Outcast island instead of Berk.

Skuf had shared information about shipping schedules between Outcast and Berserker islands. This boat may even have dragons on-board that they can free. The crew will see only a man with Berserker armor and a dragon. When they're forced to escape back to Outcast island on the dinghy, they will surely tell their people that the Berserker tribe has trained dragons and used one of them to attack an Outcast ship. That would divert some leery eyes towards the Berserkers instead of Berk for a while.

Still, Hiccup felt like he had to say something more. "And Skuf.. ummm, you know how much I hate violence. You take care of yourself, but... do your best to-"

He was interrupted by Tofa. "Toothless says Skuf says he shouldn't have to kill anyone with the fear factor of a dragon dropping out of the night. Maybe one at most, but he's confident he can get them to cooperate."

"Amazing" Hiccup muttered under his breath. "Simply amazing."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Now, you may be saying, "FizzleMcSchnizzle, did you introduce a dragon whisperer who isn't a mute just to make writing easier?"

To which I reply, "Maybe. Most definitely maybe."

Also, yes, Mariah, I plan to probe into the minds of the other dragons. Only a little bit, but there will still be a heavy focus on exploring scenarios that would be made more interesting when a dragon whisperer is involved. Suffice to say, there will be scheming.


	7. Commandeered

**7 - Commandeered**

Tofa has always been close to Skuf. He was a big brother, an uncle, an extra helper for a widower. Well, he wasn't really her uncle by blood, but Tofa always saw him as such. With how often father was always away on duty, Uncle Skuf had always helped raise her. In all their interactions, he always found a way to involve training in hearing the unspoken words.

They would spend time in the village square, sitting and meditating, focusing on their breath or the sound of the wind and the hum of the emotions of the people around them. As they listened to the chatter, she quickly came to recognize the look Skuf would give her, asking what she thinks about someone. He would look down at her and raise an eyebrow in contemplation and she would try to guess if that person was telling the truth or how they really felt about what was just said.

At first, she thought he was teaching her how to read people by their facial expressions. After a couple years, she was able to appraise the subtle cues given by people and Skuf would often just nod in approval of her declaration that, "She lied when she said she loves him," or, "Whether he's relieved a dragon killed his father or that he didn't have to do it himself, I dunno. I think his tears really had them fooled. Except his brother. I think he's at least suspicious."

Hearing the unspoken words was second nature by her sixth birthday, but such a talent only made her feel sad. What people speak and what they betray in their passive hum are often at odds. If a mother dies while giving birth, as with Tofa's mother, the gods curse the child. Many people were polite and did not voice their thoughts about the little girl, but their unspoken words were loud enough. At times, it was enough to make Tofa regret that she could hear emotions that betrayed a false smile.

For a while, she hated Uncle Skuf for teaching her to hear what people were trying not to say, but shortly before turning seven, she learned that listening to these unspoken words was more than just soothsaying. Overnight, a higher level of detail surfaced above the primal emotions carried in the hum. It was like instantly leaping from a swamp to the top of a tall mountain to clearly see all around. There was so much more depth to it if she just focused.

When the Gronckles first heard her respond to their chattering amongst themselves, their jaws hit the ground. They're actually very kind and gentle creatures on the inside.

She had to get very close to the dragons to hear them, though. Uncle Skuf had explained that humans are very weak in projecting and hearing thoughts compared to dragons. Tofa's range at hearing them was only ten of her little paces, but it was enough to hold a conversation most times without people trying to shoo her away from the "dangerous beasts". They talked and talked to keep each other sane. Visions could be seen. Sounds could be heard. Memories could be experienced. Tofa had learned that dragons have a perfect memory and they were glad to share their experiences. It was like _she_ cracked _her_ egg and _she_ flew high above the clouds and _she_ plummeted on a shark and ate it. The projected thoughts carried _every_ sensation.

She felt drawn to the forest and talked her father into allowing Skuf to take her there. There were Terrible Terrors, unfettered by the heartless Berserkers, and they were so fun to play with. They were the most adorable things, ever! All they ever talked about was who was better at this or that and Tofa was happy to be their unbiased judge and provider of belly rubs and chin scratches. Those were some of the absolute best days of her life.

It all came to an end, sadly, on one bright and sunny day. She was with her father in the forest, enjoying his precious time off from his duties, when a Terror flew right into her arms. It was the purple female she called Shrill. Shrill just snuggled right in and nuzzled Tofa's chin and neck, oblivious of her father, nearby. Another darted in, trying to dethrone his buddy, claiming he was more nimble in the air and, thus, more deserving of her attention.

Father drew his sword, ready to defend his daughter. The Terrors instantly skittered around to cling to Tofa's backside, _still_ nipping at each other and arguing. The cuts from the frantic clawing hurt a lot, but the thought of her father killing such beautiful creatures hurt even more.

Tofa stamped her foot and shouted, "Bad daddy! Good dragons! Good daddys don't hurt good dragons!"

He made her send them off and never let her into the woods again as long as he lived.

Even though he had threatened them, they still cried with her in their own draconic way a year later when she told them of his death.

That was when Tofa had to go to the orphanage. It was boring there and the kids were either mean or scared, but Skuf had befriended Skullcrusher, a dragon recently taken into custody on Berserker Island. One night, he slipped Tofa away to Skullcrusher's cage for an introduction when nobody was around.

She instantly fell in love with him. He was the prettiest little Rumblehorn ever! However, Skuf warned her about approaching Skullcrusher while people were around because this was "their little secret". What almost happened to those Terrors in the forest would surely happen to her and any dragon she pets in public. He had her agree to visit Skullcrusher only in his company when he could be certain they were alone.

When she wasn't talking to dragons, Tofa loved watching Skuf spar with the sword. He was shorter than most of his peers, but fought with such dexterity and precision. No, she thought, he doesn't fight, he dances!

His light weight and lesser height allowed him to dance around blades and opponents. In recent years, Skuf had become almost untouchable and Tofa knew why. It wasn't because he was fast and clever, which he was, nor was it because he had a wonderful mentor, which he did. Well, all that probably helped, but he could hear the unspoken words.

Skuf had explained that people talk when they fight. Their eyes, swords, shoulders, and hips speak volumes about what they are going to do. However, people often lie, too. This is accepted and _expected_ in sword-fighting. Nobody will appreciate an honest sword-fighter - with the exception of his opponents. Skuf could see through the lies. Everybody is always projecting some sort of hum that conveys their primal emotions. They're always speaking with unspoken words and Skuf could hear them all. He could tell when his opponent's movements did not match his intents. A feint could be anticipated. A quick strike could be coaxed into a more committed attack. Tofa concluded that Skuf is a soothsayer sword-dancer.

Up in the air, as Tofa leaned over the side of Toothless, she watched Skuf on the Outcast ship. It was just like Skuf's sword-dancing she had seen often in the past, but this time, he had a dragon as an ally! With so few torches lit, Hiccup had chanced flying lower so they could get a good view of the fight. The ship was a small cargo vessel with a flat deck and storage underneath. To her eyes, it very well could have been one of those trader ships that always bring interesting spices, exotic weapons, mirrors, and fascinating baubles she could never buy.

Skuf and Skullcrusher's entrance onto the ship was very straightforward. They simply dropped out of the night sky to slam down on one of the crew, crushing him and cracking the decking beneath. Skuf immediately slid down as Skullcrusher swung his flail of a tail around, knocking over a couple more Outcast crewmen while they were still struggling to collect their wits and their weapons. They didn't even know what hit them.

The glint from the torches on the deck reflected orange off Skuf's shortsword. With one quick move, blood spurt out from the underarm of one opponent while he was still trying to come to terms with what he just saw. Skuf then whirled about and deflected a downswing of an opponent's sword, which transitioned into a one-on-one duel while Skullcrusher stared down the four crewmen that were separated from them.

His opponent was a tall and burly man with a thick, black beard who wielded a crudely forged claymore, but the gleam along the edge promised that contact would be devastating. The Outcast's heavy blows were met with empty air. Brute strength railed against deft grace. As Skuf always said, Power without control is chaos.

The blades disengaged and Skuf took a step back. He gave a wry smile as he swung his sword around once in front of him in a demonstration of proficiency that wasn't excessively gaudy. They clashed again as Skuf allowed his opponent's sword to slide down the length of his blade and past the tip as he danced around. He had always believed that the cross-guard is a good fallback and is a critical tool for stronger fighters, but a step to the side is so much more efficient because stamina is a critical resource.

As the blades disengaged, Skuf ducked under an elbow aimed at his neck and put his fist in his opponent's back. They continued clashing as Skuf danced around and around, sending out an occasional fist to the side. He would never kick, though. One foot in the air means only one on the ground. It is a state of terrible vulnerability. Stomping on a grounded target can be acceptable at some times, but Skuf learned to never kick and always shuffled when he moved.

As the two fought below her, Tofa realized Skuf wasn't trying to kill his opponent... at least not yet. He was _taunting_ him.

Skullcrusher continued his staring contest with the four crewmen as Skuf danced around his opponent. A quick move blocked a swing, but he could tell it was a feint. He stepped back as his opponent swung his blade in a tight circle, keeping its momentum and throwing him off balance at the lack of anticipated contact. As his opponent stumbled forward, Skuf hit the side of his opponent's wrist with his blade. The sword fell. Blood fell.

His opponent grunted and cursed, nursing his wrist and glaring at Skuf, who used his sword to point to the dinghy and took a menacing step forward. One of the crewmen in the staring contest with Skullcrusher regained his composure after the distraction with the brief duel and reached for his sword, prompting Skullcrusher to leap forward and roar loudly at him. He stumbled backward, tripped over the deck railing, and a splash could be heard.

Skuf once again used his sword to point to the dinghy. The crewmen started to quickly move in compliance as Skuf and Skullcrusher stared them down.

Tofa was startled out of her trance of admiring Skuf's sword-dancing by Hiccup, who looked quite nervous.

"So, that's it? That went so much worse in my head."

With the fight ended, Hiccup took them up higher to ensure they wouldn't be detected.

"Yup!" Tofa declared with a big smile. "Nobody can touch Uncle Skuf. He is a soothsayer sword-dancer! And did you see his coordination with Skullcrusher? It was such a beautiful dance!"

Hiccup frowned. "I really don't think that a beautiful dance would involve crushing someone under a dragon or slicing a wrist with a sword."

Tofa crossed her arms and looked up at Hiccup. "Do you really think _you_ could have done better?"

"It's just… There's always a better way." Hiccup sighed. "Alright, I'll admit, even if I had his skill, I-"

Tofa hurriedly interrupted with a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, Mr. Firefly sir! I shouldn't question my elders. I believe you, but I assure you Skuf is not a maniac. He just wanted to scare them into obeying."

Hiccup gave a crooked smile. "Alright, I'll believe it. You probably picked up on my doubt, anyway, when I said that with my... unspoken words?"

"Yessir Mr. Firefly sir. I can hear your hum. Uncle Skuf always warned me that I should not open my mouth, though, just because I think I know something."

"Well, I guess that's good advice for your age. How does my... ummm... hum sound? That's emotions, right?"

"Yessir. It's a pleasant hum, but I can tell you're nervous. Don't worry; Nobody can hurt Uncle Skuf and Toothless is invisible. And has such a pretty voice." Tofa reached down and draped her little arms around Toothless' ear fins and he warbled softly at the compliment.

Hiccup leaned forward to talk to Toothless. "Hey, Bud, you can, ummm, talk to Skuf?"

Toothless craned his neck around and gave his rider a "what do you think" sort of look.

"Great. Tell him we'll join him in a bit. I want to watch the dinghy and make sure they're actually going back."

Toothless cocked his head to the side with a confused look on his face. Hiccup recognized this expression to mean, "Say it again, but differently."

Tofa spoke up. "Mr. Toothless sir, he means that smaller boat... yeah, that one there... Mr. Firefly, Toothless says Skuf says take your time, but he'll be ready when you are."

At Hiccup's quizzical look, she said, "I think your projection of the dinghy wasn't much different from any other boat. Focusing on the details of the things you say can help a dragon understand you.

Hiccup gave a thoughtful grunt as Tofa suddenly whirled around, declaring, "Hey, look, they made it!"

Hiccup groaned under his breath, "More surprises?"

A group of six Terrible Terrors flocked up from behind to land on the ship that Skuf just commandeered. Well, _most_ of them did. One veered off to intercept the flying trio. Toothless turned it into a race, but between Tofa's, "Toothless, pleeease!" and Hiccup batting at his dragon's sensor lobes in irritation, the Night Fury was persuaded to allow the Terror to catch up and nestle into Tofa's lap.

Tofa stared at the new dragons behind them, now shrinking to specks. "They are mine, Mr. Firefly sir. I asked them to bring fish from the shallow waters around the island and find us."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Even if you can talk to them, how did you get them to cooperate? We've found Terrible Terrors to be selfish and lazy for the most part."

"Ah, that took uncle Skuf and me a while to figure out. They aren't lazy; they're actually really competitive and love to play games. But you have to make a contest out of something to get them to play. We challenged them to grab as much fish as they could carry. That way, we have some food so we're not depending on what's on that ship. They will probably argue about whether having the most or the biggest fish should win. Skuf will probably have to invent a few categories, like biggest fish, prettiest, or heaviest load."

"And this purple one, here?"

Tofa smiled down at the Terror. "Ah! Yes. Let's just say Shrill knows I have my favorites. And she has a fish. See? It can be a tribute to Toothless for letting us ride on him."

Hiccup leaned forward to see a decently-sized fish in the Terror's maw. He grinned, held out his hand, and was actually surprised when she graciously yielded the fish. He tossed it forward and Toothless lunged with a flap of his wings to snap it out of the air in mid-flight with an amused chortle.

Silence fell over the trio as they continued to shadow the dinghy far below. Tofa watched with fascination as Hiccup moved the control lever for Toothless' tail fin as they idly flew about in lazy patterns. Her eyes were constantly darting between Hiccup's leg on the control mechanism and the tail fin it controlled.

She asked, "Mr. Firefly sir, who decides where to fly? Is it Toothless or you? He told me to ask you as you're better at explaining these sorts of things."

Tofa knew that last bit was a fib. Toothless could show her in the blink of an eye, but the dragon told her to ask the rider instead. He was very upset that she told Hiccup about biting his leg back when they killed that demonic queen and Tofa wanted to make amends. Toothless figured that having his rider explain something would help distract him from the things that weighed him down.

Hiccup chewed his lip for a moment. Nobody had ever asked about the details of how he and Toothless interact in-flight.

"I suppose it's a compromise. If I want to go in a certain direction, Toothless can feel me lean and adjust the tailfin. Then again, Toothless can insist on a direction and I can feel his intents – the muscles flexing at the base of his neck between my legs, mainly. The way he leans and… I guess I'm just so used to him that every subtle motion communicates to me."

"Who is controlling how we fly right now?"

"Right now I am just following Toothless' lead. He's the one doing the real work, so it's only right that he should call the shots. Flying is kinda like climbing a hill. The path you take can make all the difference. One path can provide roots with firm ground and trees to steady yourself, while another has loose stones or wet grass that makes progress slower and more tiring. I quickly learned to respect Toothless's abilities to find the best path. He can find those thermals I would never have noticed or angle himself with the wind so it helps us.

"But if, say, I _really_ want to veer off to the right…" Hiccup demonstrated by leaning as he adjusted the tail fin, bringing them into a gentle banking turn. "Then Toothless can feel what I want and fly like so. When I'm happy to let Toothless make all the decisions again, he can somehow just sense it, I think when he feels me relax in the saddle. We trust and respect each other, so there's no issue about who is in charge. It's like what Skuf always says about trust being the mother of cooperation.

"We're not just two creatures trying to cooperate to fly, but rather one dragon-Viking creature. Toothless wears me on his back like a cape and I become a part of his body. Likewise, I move with his movements and his tail fin that I operate becomes an extension of my body just like a knife is an extension of one's arm. I suppose we sorta lose our sense of individual self and become one creature."

Tofa pondered on that for a moment. "You're a dragon whisperer, too, then."

"Nah, I can't hear Toothless the way you or Skuf can."

"Maybe not as we can, but in some way."

"Maybe..."

"I think you can hear Toothless better than you realize, Mr. Firefly sir. Maybe you just need to spend time to recognize it."

Hiccup scratched Toothless under his sensor lobes, drawing out a quiet trill. "That would be amazing when that time comes, then. Anyway, I think we've followed this dinghy long enough. They're making progress towards Outcast Island. Looks like they set up a sail for themselves."

Hiccup leaned left to turn them around in a gentle banking turn. "Let's go check up on Skuf and Skullcrusher."

The flight back was uneventful, but as they approached the boat, Hiccup saw three other dragons lounging on the deck along with Skuf and Skullcrusher: two Deadly Nadders and a Monstrous Nightmare. The Terrible Terrors formed a singular heap of scales on the deck where they slept. Hiccup put them into a pattern of circling above the boat, unsure of the situation.

Tofa looked up at Hiccup to answer his unspoken question. "Toothless says that Skuf says they're friendly. They were stuck in cages below the deck and are very grateful to have been released. They asked to stay with us as they would not know where to go right now."

Content with that, Hiccup landed them in a clearing on the deck. The three newly freed dragons looked up to acknowledge the new visitors, but then laid their heads down again to sleep. Hiccup lowered Tofa to the deck and slid down the side of Toothless' neck and walked over to Skuf, who seemed to be having a staring contest with Skullcrusher. He was distracted, though, by Tofa's usual giddiness as she hugged Toothless' head.

"Thank you thank you Mr. Toothless, sir! That was amazing! I flew! I flew! ... Well, I'm glad I wasn't a burden to you. Uncle Skuf, when can we go flying again?"

Tofa whirled around towards Skuf and Skullcrusher, but her smile dissipated as she took in the situation and ran over to them. "Oh, poor Skullcrusher!"

Hiccup was still trying to make sense of the situation. "What... is... going on, Skuf?"

Skuf knelt down and held out his hand to Tofa, who grabbed onto it. Tofa said "Skuf says he freed these dragons from their cages and they ate some fish and are sleeping it off. We saved some for Toothless and there's some dried meats for us to eat. Skullcrusher is-"

"Wait" Hiccup interrupted. "Tofa, you can hear Skuf just like you can hear dragons? The speaking without words?"

"Sure! Why not? Same thing. I am happy to be Skuf's slate board."

She giggled sheepishly as Skuf grinned down at her. She lunged at Skullcrusher and embraced his head. "Poor Skullcrusher. He's feeling sad... and confused."

Hiccup took a step closer, but hesitated. Skuf had told him about the dragon and assured him that he would be friendly, but Hiccup could see that he was agitated.

Looking at Skullcrusher, he said "What's wrong, big fella? You just escaped a cage. You're free to do whatever you want! I would imagine you'd be happy."

Tofa looked back at Hiccup, still clinging tightly to Skullcrusher's maw. "He thinks everything is a cage. The queen's mind snare he escaped was a cage. Berserker island is a cage. This boat is a cage. Skuf told him that we could go to Berk together, but he thinks that would be a cage. There would be expectations, which would be like a cage without bars."

Hiccup scratched his chin. "Well, buddy, you don't have to go to Berk. I have no control over you. You're free to fly off if you want. Find a place to live, find your family, or... I dunno what dragons do on their own, especially your species."

"That's the thing" Tofa said. "He doesn't want to leave us. _We_ are his cage."

She leaned over to look into one of Skullcrusher's eyes. "Silly dragon, that can't make sense. To leave is a cage, to stay is a cage. What, is the entire world a cage to you? ... no, I don't want you to leave. I'd miss you... but..."

Tofa's voice softened to a somber mumble. "I wouldn't want to stop you if you really wanted to go." Her face suddenly brightened at hearing some unspoken message from the dragon and she wrapped her arms around the horn on his snout. "Then _I_ am your cage. I shall never let you escape, you silly dragon!"

Hiccup was very confused. "What... just happened?"

Tofa hooked one arm around Skullcrusher's horn and spun around on it to face him. "Poor little dragon knows nothing but cages. He was trapped in the cage of the demon's mind control ever since he was born. Then, after escaping, he was trapped in a cage of iron and stone on Berserker Island. Now that he's out, he still thinks he's in a cage of some sort. Skuf keeps telling him the cage is in his own mind. Skullcrusher is a silly little dragon. Aren't you, Mr. Rumblehorn?"

"Well, that is... interesting." Hiccup said. His head was still spinning at all this dragon talk with two dragon whisperers and all that could entail. "Well, Skullcrusher, you're welcome to stay on Berk with Skuf. He'll take care of you. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but we'd love to have you around."

Skullcrusher chuffed and nuzzled Tofa. Hiccup took a couple tentative steps towards the dragon, who heeded Tofa's and Skuf's prodding to reciprocate the gesture. Hiccup couldn't help but smile as he closed the gap and reached out to touch Skullcrusher's snout.

"And I promise no cages."

Skullcrusher gave Hiccup a quick lick on the cheek, causing Toothless to jump up, alarmed by the sudden move, but settled back down after seeing there was no threat.

Hiccup turned to Skuf. "Well, I guess that's enough adventure for one night, eh? I'll keep our course. As Toothless' rider, I have become as nocturnal as him. You and Tofa get some sleep.

Skuf thumped his right fist to his chest in a show of gratitude.

"Good night Mr. Firefly sir!" Tofa cried out as Skuf led her into the under-deck to find some bedding.

Hiccup turned back to Skullcrusher. "Thanks for trusting me, big guy. I can't imagine how sad you must have been in cages your whole life, but I think you'll like it on Berk. And if you don't, you're a free dragon. You fly where you please!"

Skullcrusher warbled and snorted in a way Hiccup decided to interpret as friendly acknowledgment.

"Rest up. We'll be home in a couple days. Toothless and I will watch over you while you sleep."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Ya know, it's only now that I realize I seem to always have some sort of comic relief character in all my stories. Here, it's Tofa. If you've ever read Hookfang's Tale, it's Barf and Belch (aka Spit and Sputter). In Dragons 101, it's Hauk. I never really _meant_ to do that by design. I guess I'm helpless to write dark and somber stories, only to realize I need some sort of sunshine and rainbow element to make it less dreary. I'm just amazed I never noticed this trend until after I wrote three stories and _then_ got a third of the way through renovating this one.


	8. Nightmare

**8 - Nightmare**

Toothless aimlessly prowled in agitation all around the land-strider ocean vessel. The whole structure creaked and groaned as if it was in great pain and begging for death. Its wings fluttered like those of some brain-damaged dragon and the constant rocking motion was never reassuring. It reminded Toothless of his first ride on one of these accursed things, shackled down to a large wooden slab by iron vines, thrashing around in a futile attempt to break free. At that moment, he knew without a doubt that he would lose his mind to the demonic queen and become her thrall again.

He vigorously shook the memory out of his head. This was different. He was free and his rider was at his side. If Firefly was assured, then there was nothing to fear. Toothless knew, though, that this creaking pile of sticks wasn't the _actual_ cause of his restlessness.

Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK!

Firefly walked up to Toothless, his stride alternating between soft taps of his real foot and the hard clang of his iron prosthetic. He dragged his knuckles down the dragon's spine, shooting bolts of lightning from nose to tail, then continued along his way towards whatever task needed to be done.

Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK!

Toothless loved his gentle rider so much it hurt every time he heard that metallic clattering. What was even worse was when his rider tries to suppress a whimper whenever the pain would flare up again in the sensitive stump on his leg. Firefly always tried to hide the pain and act as if nothing is wrong. He can fool others, but not his dragon. Toothless would gnaw on the severed stump with toothless gums to ease the pain and Firefly especially appreciated it when a storm rolls in, but any sign of remorse from the dragon always made the rider feel sad.

Toothless had always felt shackled down by this grief. Dragons are normally very physical creatures. They don't hold onto grief or anger. They fight for mates, territory, and food. They fight when they're mad. They fight when they're happy. They fight to remind themselves they're alive. It took the riders a while to get used to the idea of their dragons randomly taking a swipe or shooting some fire at each other as they work their emotions out of their systems. It was just their way of coming to terms. The minor injuries they caused were healed and blemish-free within a few days, after all.

That left Toothless at a complete loss for how to work through this grief. Firefly frowns on any act of violence. Somehow, he manages his emotions within his mind. How is a dragon supposed to deal with _that_?

Fight him to chase away this gnawing grief? Bite his _other_ leg? Ridiculous!

Ask Firefly to hit his dragon as retribution? He would sooner hit himself!

When Toothless was first shot down, he was hurt. When he was released, he was spitting mad. Even just pinning that land-strider against a rock and roaring at him was enough to release his anger. He couldn't do that for this grief, though; he'd already tried. Toothless had to hold it all in for both their sakes. This guilt consumes like a festering wound, but what else was there to do?

Then that Little Butterfly just _had_ to come along. Of course, Toothless had only himself to blame for having shared that memory with her in the first place, but he couldn't help but feel giddy with that little land-strider on his back and having someone to talk to. It was almost as if her giddy emotions were not only detected, but somehow _absorbed_ , too. Her unyielding curiosity about everything she saw just encouraged Toothless to talk without restraint.

Being around land-striders who could pick up on his projections was a new thing for Toothless, so he thought nothing of it at that time. Well, Badger could hear, but he could not talk to land-striders. At least, his method of projecting thoughts onto a flat stone was such a slow and cumbersome process and he actually exercised some discretion in what he would share with the land-striders.

Little Butterfly had no such discretion. When she asked about Firefly's leg, Toothless naturally projected his memory of his fight with that demonic queen that had stripped so many dragons of their free will. It was a glorious night. The dragons provided flight and firepower while the riders protected them from the mind snare. They instantly learned to throw themselves into each other's trust. And, of course, it was all because of Firefly's unflinching dedication to his dragon and his sheer cunning in beating impossible odds.

It was a glorious night, yes, but also a bitter night of defeat for one dragon in particular. They killed the damned queen, Toothless' tail fin had burnt up and blown away, they hit her tail. The impact hurt, but nothing could compare to the pain stabbing through his heart at seeing his little Firefly falling, completely helpless, plunging towards the rising explosion of fire. Toothless realized he was off-balance and had little control without that tailfin, and then... panic.

 _That_ is what cost Firefly the lower part of his leg. It wasn't the queen or the fire or the fall. It was his dragon who stopped thinking because he panicked.

Where Firefly was always calm, as if he always knew everything would turn out alright, Toothless simply panicked when he saw _his_ precious Firefly falling into the flames of the exploding queen. He thrust every ounce of strength and focus on closing the gap, but it was a _frantic_ effort. Nothing else mattered; he just pressed on, teeth out, claws extended, ready to grab that precious and delicate little land-strider by any means possible and hold him close.

Just as he was about to grab onto Firefly, an explosion pushed him away. Toothless did not think, he only acted. He arched his neck up and grabbed onto whatever he could with his teeth, sinking them in as hard as he could.

The result of that panic pierced Toothless' heart every time he heard the uneven stride of his rider. Maybe he could have flown a little faster by stretching his wings a little farther or angling the tips back a little more on the down-stroke. Firefly certainly wouldn't have lost his leg if his dragon remembered his namesake and retracted his teeth instead. It would have torn his gums a bit, but the grip would have been secure enough to pull his rider down and into his paws... probably. The outcome could have been so much different if he was a little bit better - just a _little_ , in one way or another.

Toothless flexed a wing as he craned his neck around to look down the length of his body. The pale light of the moon glinted off of each scale, little gems embedded in his hide. If he held his wing just so, the smooth surface of the membrane would catch broad swathes of moonlight in shifting patterns. Toothless allowed himself a moment of vanity as he watched the scale-covered hide shift with the muscles beneath. Land-striders would always stare with a timid sort of awe, watching the ripples in his shoulders and flank when he prowls around.

There was no doubting he was a powerful dragon. Sure, there were tougher, there were stronger, but he was all the more potent. With all the training he and Firefly go through on a nightly basis, all the races and games and challenges, his body has become more developed than it had ever been. Power where needed, but not a single wasted bit of weight. When it came to speed and explosive bursts of raw energy, Toothless was unsurpassed.

Pride clashed against remorse in a violent skirmish. Why should such a dragon berate himself? Because his rider got hurt saving the world? Ha! Whose wings delivered them both from the queen's maw? Whose fire killed that demon? Who is the master of the sky? There was no cause to feel any regret! Firefly should be _grateful_ that he lost so little from such a trauma! To feel grief is madness!

Then again, who has come to rely on his rider's brilliant mind and calm composure? Who would still be a mindless thrall, degrading himself for the queen's pleasure for the rest of his miserable life if he was not shot down? Who is a land-bound worm without his rider and that tailfin he made?

Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK! Pff. CLUNK!

Firefly leaned against his dragon, idly scratching the scaly eye ridge. Toothless felt a light smack on the side of his head and realized he was softly growling. He was growling at himself, not his precious rider, so he instantly focused on softening his expression and nuzzled Firefly, who had little difficulty figuring out what was bothering his dragon. He softly told Toothless that the leg wasn't his fault… And that he would have died otherwise and he should feel proud that he saved his rider from certain death… And the leg was surely already mangled from that foot mechanism from impacting the queen's tail… And he'd gladly give up an entire arm and a leg to continue living with his best friend and… And so many other comforting things Toothless felt he didn't deserve to hear. He licked Firefly's face to stop him from offering comfort to the offspring of lightning and death.

It was funny to think about. For most of his life, Firefly was seen by all as a failure. He was reared up to be envious of his stronger peers or awestruck by the power of dragons. Yet, in reality, Toothless knew he could never measure up to his rider. Firefly always seemed to be in command of himself. He never panicked and never showed fear, except for when he's trying to get a specific response out of someone. Sure, he may show it outwardly and fool other land-striders, but that's only a survival tactic he was forced to develop in a place where there was no room for the weak. Even when someone thought Firefly was stuttering, he was really just maneuvering them into dealing more gently with him. Somehow, he can subtly influence them when they think _they_ are in command.

Toothless has always been envious of such self-control. Power be damned; what good is it if a moment of panic turns one into a stupid, clumsy hatchling? He has always been the predator and has never learned to survive as prey. Firefly, on the other wing, had lived most of his life as prey, but that only sharpened the power of his mind to control himself in any situation. To think that little Firefly worked things out so that he could flaunt his dragon among the very land-striders who structured their entire lives around killing dragons.

It was only his sharp mind that could make it happen. It was only his calm control over himself that prevented everything from falling apart. It was only his gentle heart that could tame the fierce dragon's pride.

Maybe it's not funny after all; maybe it's sad. Maybe that was the fundamental reason that Toothless decided his purpose in life was to protect Firefly, even though he constantly put himself in harm's way because "it just felt right". Firefly's reckless behavior constantly drives his dragon insane, but it's what makes Firefly, well, Firefly.

Nothing exemplified that better than when he dove after his dragon on that night before they flew to fight the queen. The shackled dragon was plunged into the water and Firefly tried to free him. The rider was too weak and they both knew it, but the diminutive land-strider would not swim up and save himself.

Toothless roared in anger at him. He was going to die and it would all be for nothing!

Firefly got lucky, but he had no doubt.

He was crazy. He was insane.

Toothless thought he was being foolish, but he was actually a genius.

Firefly saw that which wasn't, but needed to be, and made others carry out his solution without even revealing the power of his mind to anyone. He couldn't directly control land-striders the way the queen could control dragons, but he still found a way to force cooperation. There was no land-strider who hated dragons more than Firefly's sire - or as the dragons called him, the Beast. Yet, it was the Beast himself who ended up pulling Firefly to safety and freeing Toothless from the shackles.

It was the threat to Firefly's life that made the large land-strider swim down there in the first place. He wielded it as he would a shiny claw to cut through his sire's reservations. Would the demonic queen be destroyed and the dragons free if he didn't put himself in harm's way in what land-striders insist to this very day to be an act of madness? If Toothless had succeeded in convincing his rider to abandon him to a watery death, would the queen still be controlling dragons to this very day?

A scary thought.

Toothless was jolted out of his ruminations by Firefly. He ran a finger lightly down the length of his dragon's forehead, sending chills down his spine. Firefly grinned at his dragon as he mumbled about flying around, but being quiet so they don't wake anyone.

He held his peace as he launched himself into his dragon's saddle and they launched into the air. As they rose higher up, Firefly spoke up again, asking how Toothless was doing.

Toothless projected a casual, dismissive assurance. _{There is nothing you should be concerned about.}_

 _Oh, right, Firefly can't hear me._

His suspicion that his body language was giving away his internal discomfort was confirmed when his rider asked about his fake leg, radiating a mix of exasperation and sympathy.

Toothless could tell that the revelation from the Little Butterfly about how his rider's leg got so mangled wasn't really a shocking surprise, but that didn't make him feel any less frustrated. Losing a tailfin was far less crippling than his rider losing his leg. After a few days, the pain where the tailfin used to be quickly vanished and was never felt again. Firefly, though, never could forget the pain because it attacked him on a regular basis. He always tried to suppress his whimpers. He tried to hide it from his dragon, but that only impales the dragon's heart all the more.

Toothless lost his tailfin when Firefly freed him from the mind snare, but Firefly lost his leg because his stupid dragon gave in to panic. Firefly calls it an equal trade, but there's nothing equal about it.

 _I_ should _have done better,_ Toothless told himself. _He trusted me. I let him down._

The duo flew some wide circles around the ocean vessel to scan for potential hazards or threats before landing again; the only sound they made was the wind rushing past the wings. Toothless would normally be proud of himself for such a graceful and soft landing, but he still couldn't help but feel sullen, even after flying – and flying _always_ made him feel happy.

The pattern of meandering around the ocean vessel and flying about to scan for hazards continued for the rest of the night. Firefly would pull on this, push on that, or rotate something that was like a tail fin that navigated the vessel through the water. Periodically, Firefly would look at some sort of artifact that he said always pointed in the same direction. It almost never pointed at the sun or moon. In fact, it wasn't pointing where the vessel was going, but it somehow helped Firefly.

It was only one more example of something Toothless had come to realize. Firefly never really needed his dragon. This vessel can take him anywhere. His clever invention can tell him where to go. It was one of his clever inventions that knocked the dragon out of the sky and another clever invention that put him back up there.

On the other wing, Toothless would always need his rider. He plopped himself down in front of Firefly, but that was only met with an exasperated whine about how he was being overly dramatic. One of those little mink dragons scurried up to sniff at them, curious at the commotion. Toothless instantly jumped up and snarled to chase it off. There was only one creature in this world who is allowed to see him like this.

As the sky started to brighten, Firefly took them on one last flight over a sandbar that had formed near a very tiny island that still had ice clinging to its shores. They dove for fish to feed Toothless and also found a seal, which they killed and grabbed for the other dragons. It was difficult to fly with so much weight in his claws, but the vessel wasn't too far away and Toothless was able to land before tiring out.

Firefly gingerly removed the saddle and attentively examined the scaly hide for any signs of discomforting wear. The way he would reverently scan the dragon's body, feeling for knotted muscles and soothing out the cramps felt like a spike through the heart. Firefly's ministrations quickly had Toothless melting into the floor, but he felt he didn't deserve it.

A while later, Badger and Butterfly emerged from the dark bowels of the ship. After some verbal exchanges and Badger inscribing on that flat stone he always carried around, they decided that they would navigate the vessel and use the dragons to scan their surroundings while Firefly and Toothless went inside to sleep.

Firefly led Toothless down into the welcoming darkness, which was depressingly vacant of any rocks to heat up and sleep on. As if sensing his thoughts, Firefly muttered something about not burning the whole thing to ash, causing the dragon to playfully push him around.

Toothless extended a wing, folding it under his belly as he flopped down and rolled to his side, inviting Firefly to sleep with him. Firefly accepted and Toothless wrapped his forelegs and wings around to snug him in close.

He loved the days when they could sleep together like this. The feeling on his neck and chest of such a fragile creature who was very powerful with his mind was a soothing comfort. It reaffirmed his purpose in life to protect his rider who was so much more capable than he even realized. Toothless could feel the slowing, shallow breaths and it brought comfort and peace. Even though the air was very chilly, as Spring had just arrived, his rider would be warm in his embrace.

It reminded him of their fight against the queen, when he wrapped himself up around his rider to save him from the fall. Well, save _most_ of him.

Toothless let out a long-winded, weary sigh. Feeling worn out from flying so much, he closed his eyes and accepted the awaiting slumber.

########

* * *

########

Toothless suddenly jolted to all fours. Instead of waking on the ship, he was in a forest. The sky boiled with dark, angry clouds and the trees thrashed violently in the wind.

Desperately looking around for his charge, he noticed that Firefly was... big. Really big. Or was the dragon small? His wings could barely span Firefly's shoulders.

 _What's happening? Where is this?_

Firefly looked down at Toothless with a mischievous grin. He crouched down and wrapped his fingers around Toothless' belly to pick him up and set him down on his shoulder. The diminutive dragon instinctively wrapped his tail around the back of Firefly's neck for support.

A loud roar drew their attention to a boar that was twice as tall as Firefly. Its beady, black eyes glared with pure hatred from behind its tusks. Foam dribbled out of its mouth as it gnashed its teeth. It gave out a snarl and charged at them.

Firefly froze in fear. His eyes glazed over. He wanted to fight the beast, but it was so large.

 _{Control yourself!}_ Toothless roared at his rider. _{I'm here for you. Dodge and slash. Use your speed to your advantage.}_

The beast crashed through the forest, churning up clods of dirt and snapping trees like it wanted to snap their bones, but Firefly sidestepped, dragging his shiny claw along the side of the boar's belly. It was ripped out of his grip as it glanced off the femur bone, but he was able to pick it up before the beast could turn around. Toothless clung to Firefly's shoulder for dear life as the boar started charging again, only to crash into more trees and receive a blade to the side.

Memories of this sort of fighting technique that Badger had been teaching Firefly sprang to mind. This dance of dodging and slashing happened again and again. During the boar's final charge, Firefly leaped forward, causing it to jump up on its hind legs, giving Firefly an opportunity to drive his shiny claw into its neck.

The creature writhed in pain and fell forward, but kicked Firefly in the chest with its last gasp as it fell to the ground. The impact flung Toothless from his perch and Firefly instantly reeled about in a wide-eyed panic, desperately grasping for his dragon, but managed to grab only the tailfin. Toothless shrieked in pain, but that was silenced when he smashed into the trunk of a tree and tumbled down to the ground. Darkness overtook him.

Toothless awoke with a start. He looked around; they were back in the ocean vessel. It must have been a nightmare. Nothing more than a stupid dream.

Firefly was half a wingspan away, slowly rising to his knees in a daze. Toothless realized he must have bucked and kicked during his nightmare and pushed Firefly away.

 _{Oh no! I am so sorry, Firefly!}_

 _Oh, right, he can't hear me._

Toothless rolled over to his feet and got up to pad his way to Firefly with his neck out, head down, chuffing an apology. Firefly said something about how it's alright - no harm, no foul. Then, he started talking about a dream he just had as he lazily scratched the side of his dragon's jaw.

As he went on describing it, Toothless realized it was the same dream. Everything about it matched what he could recall from his nightmare image for image – the forest, the fear, the confidence, the triumph, the... panic. A realization suddenly dawned on Toothless. They shared the same dream!

 _Wait, since when have I ever dreamed of that which has never happened? Such dabbling of the mind is a land-strider trait._

Whether Firefly shared his dream with his dragon or was it the other way around, Toothless couldn't tell. Maybe he was projecting his nightmare and Firefly heard it? Maybe it means Firefly's ability to hear his dragon is improving!

Toothless suddenly realized that nightmare was their fight with the queen – the exact same scenario, just roles reversed. There was still that initial fear, then the pride and confidence as they fought the beast. Then... the panic... as the rider was ejected.

Firefly was coming to the same conclusion as he described the part where he accidentally tore off Toothless' tail fin. He just stood there, laughing his head off, but stopped when Toothless sniffed his fake leg, overcome with guilt. It hurt to know he could have done better for such a precious creature who deserved better.

Firefly casually strolled around to the black tail, using his metal foot to gently tap the side where the fin had been torn off. He said a guilty conscience can consume someone. He said if Toothless felt guilty about the leg, then he would threaten to feel guilty about the tailfin, and then they would both be consumed by grief without any hope of rescue.

"I did this."

Spoken words were strange to the dragon, but he could piece some things together, particularly vague references to something. Firefly said or did..., something... he was looking at the tail fin.

Toothless instantly whirled around and pressed his nose into Firefly's cheek, staring into his eyes, pupils narrowed to slits. Firefly took a sharp breath, surprised by the sudden movement, but otherwise just kept staring in thoughtful contemplation. Toothless snarled, but Firefly only returned it with a sad smile.

 _{I will tackle you so hard if you don't stop right now! I will sit on you until you turn blue!}_

"I did this."

 _{Stop saying that! You saved me when you shot me down! Don't berate yourself. Just don't. You're better than that. You're better than... me.}_

Toothless let out a whine.

He recognized the sounds of that phrase Firefly used. He heard it when he was first found by Firefly, bound, injured, and exhausted, awaiting his death. Firefly made that declaration when his pride turned to shame and his salvation turned to damnation. He said that when he made the decision to stop pretending to be something he wasn't. It was what Firefly's sire echoed after the fight with the queen as he realized the cost of his actions. It was an honest admission of fault.

However, Firefly didn't carry around this guilt for the torn tail fin. No, that would only hamper his ability to do that land-strider magic of making tail fins, saddles, and friendships. Was it selfish of him to release that guilt? Of course not! It would only drive his dragon insane!

Firefly just stared back at Toothless with an earnest sincerity that would not be denied, as if staring into one's soul. He said that Toothless needs to forgive himself - if not for his own sake, then for the rider's. This guilt was hurting Firefly more than it hurt his dragon.

Toothless could feel his rider's calm acceptance pouring off in waves. He could feel it penetrating under his scales and gladly let it wash over him. It felt like Firefly was drawing out the grief like venom from a wound.

 _Yes, this guilt is a cage. I need to break out. I need to escape!_

The dragon draped his head over his rider's shoulder and started to purr.

 _{I did this.}_

However, that mistake didn't have to be a curse. If one can learn from a mistake, then what good is moping around?

 _How does this enchanting Firefly manage to always create solutions time and time again?_

Toothless puffed his breath at Firefly's face, watching the auburn hair dance in the wind. The rider let out a long breath as his face relaxed into a broad smile and stepped forward to wrap his arms around his dragon's neck in a warm embrace.

Toothless didn't know what came over him just then, but he wanted to return the gesture. He had seen land-striders embrace each other like this all the time and they were always gushing joy and peace. He wanted that feeling for himself and his rider, so he rose up on his hind legs and grabbed Firefly with his front paws, squeezing him tight against the base of his neck. Firefly gasped at the unexpected action, but laughed with such carefree abandon as Toothless bounced on his hind legs, rider dangling in his grasp, and rolled over onto his back to flop down on his side. Secure in his dragon's paws, Firefly twisted his head to look up and meet his dragon's gaze of adoration and wonder.

They unanimously decided to try this whole sleep thing one more time. Toothless let out a contented breath as his rider squirmed into a comfortable position, resting his head on the scaly leg. The dragon took a moment, once again, to appreciate the feeling of this fragile creature's breath through the base of his neck. He could feel his rider's heartbeat gradually slow down in tempo.

Toothless lazily blinked his eyes to see a beautiful bank of clouds ahead, brilliantly illuminated by the bright sun, and it was approaching fast. He gleefully let his tongue hang out to flap in the wind and looked over to his rider next to him. Firefly opened his eyes and grinned right back at his dragon as the duo simply enjoyed the weightless experience of free-falling. The feeling of wind whipping past his sensor lobes, the noise in his ears, the crisp, cold exhilaration of it all… there was nothing else quite like it!

As they passed through the clouds, the ocean below came into view. Firefly straightened out and slid past his dragon to lightly dance on his snout. There was no fear. There was no panic. There was no worry. There was only peace. There was only joy.

As they descended lower, Firefly eventually reached to grab the saddle and swing himself into position. Toothless spread his wings and leveled out at high speed. Nothing could stop them. No matter where they flew, there was nothing they could not handle.

A hawk squealed and frantically fluttered to avoid the descending duo.

There was no dragon. There was no rider. There were only two parts of a greater whole. Together they were immortal. Together they were unstoppable. Together they were complete. Together they would set the world ablaze.

Each was exactly what the other needed.

Toothless skimmed over the water and heeded his rider's gentle nudging to alight on the edge of a cliff and was greeted by a whole field of the greenest, most beautiful, most aromatic grass ever! He hardly gave his rider a moment to scurry off before flopping onto his back, wings spread, snout gouging in, tail lashing back and forth with a mind of its own, claiming it all for himself. He snorted and squirmed about in a euphotic daze while Firefly giggled and tried to balance himself on the dragon's belly.

At that moment, Toothless knew he was loved. He was complete. Nothing would ever change that. Ever.

Everything else was simply old scales to be shed.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Just like chapter 4, this one almost got the ax. For weeks, I'd been humming and hawing about what to do with this chapter or whether to even include it in the first place. It doesn't really drive the main plot, but I thought there might be some decent content. I didn't wanna turn Toothless into a crybaby or a lapdog, but I did want to humanize him a bit. So, I'm still not 100% convinced this chapter needs to exist, but I hope you got something out of it anyway.

Kami no Kage-Sama - There will be more Skuf to come for sure, but not a whole lot with Skuf/Hiccup interactions. I figured Hiccup is a busy guy and he'd be spending most of his time with Skuf just meditating. Still, your puppy eyes have been duly noted. You can count on adorable scenes to come. (-:


	9. Induction

**9 - Induction**

Despite the fact that snow covered Berk for seven months of the year, nature has always found a way to put out trees and plants of all sorts. Iðunn, goddess of rejuvenation, has made nature to be impatient and persistent in shooting forth green sprouts at the first sign of Spring, causing everything to grow with an unrelenting vengeance for the few months warm enough to sustain plant life. The forests that were formerly a sea of brown, dotted with greens of firs and pines, erupted with leaves of willow, birch, elm, and honey-locust. The pansies that lined garden beds started to stretch out to greet the warmth of the sun.

Naturally, the Hooligans have learned from the gods by observing their works. Even as snow still stubbornly clung to the ground, most of the village was hard at work tilling their fields for kale, collards, cabbage, and carrots. Yet, despite the cold, Stoick had little trouble working up a sweat as he helped the farmers prepare their fields.

"A chief does what it takes to help his people." he would always say when they would offer payment or politely try to decline his assistance in manual labor. "Besides, gotta stay strong, somehow, so I can be ready to fight off the drag-... err, whatever may threaten us."

Stoick always believed a leader is, first and foremost, a servant to his people – _not_ the other way around. Service was the pulse that kept him alive, the driving force that gave him reason to rise from bed every morning. A chief does whatever is needed for his village and Stoick always felt fulfillment in doing just that, even if it gave him headaches, sore arms, and calloused hands.

The chief idly whistled a tune as he guided a plow down a row in a field of dark, rich soil, churning up and mixing with the compost and manure that was laid down last fall after harvest. The yak, although resistant to get up and do work, heartily pulled the plow for fear of invoking Stoick's wrath. If it ever started to drift off its course or slacken its pace, just hearing Stoick cease his whistling was enough to inspire the fear needed to spur it toward greater effort.

Halfway through the fifteenth row, Stoick halted his whistling, but not because of the yak. The distinct sound of the Night Fury's roar could be heard in the distance, high in the sky, just off the coast.

"Ah, about time, son," he muttered to himself.

The yak, interpreting the threatening silence as a sign of imminent danger of the large Viking's wrath, picked up the pace.

"Woah there, buddy!" Stoick leaped forward and smacked the yak's shoulder with the back of his knuckles, causing it to stop in its tracks.

As he removed the harness, Stoick shouted out to his fellow farmer, "Hey, Sven, can you put him away? I gotta take care of something."

Silent Sven looked over from his adjacent field and waved, halting his yak to walk over and relieve Stoick of his charge. As the chief made his way to the town square, he shouted out for his fellow councilmen.

"Hoark! Spite! Phlegma! Gobber! Gothi! Someone go fetch her, please. I think this is it."

From the outskirts of the town square, Gobber came peg-legging it out of his smithy as Hoark and Spitelout converged, brushing the dirt off of their hands and clothing. Stoick couldn't help but feel pride for the people of his tribe. They never were especially wealthy and life has always been hard, even without the dragon attacks, but there has always been an abundance of strong backs to throw at whatever task the village needed the most.

At this time of year, the village's greatest need was for every able hand to prepare the land to grow crops that would last them through the next harsh winter. The growing season never lasted long and they would need to make use of every bit of warm sunshine that would deign to fall upon the fields. During the winter, the sun hardly rose before it set. Soon, though, it would stay in the sky for most of the day and hardly ever rest.

Stoick watched the black dragon circle the village before landing. It descended at a steep angle of attack before flaring at the edge of the town square and sprinting along the ground to control the fast landing. Stoick grunted in approval. Back in the early days, the dragons were a menace that churned up clouds of dust and snow every time they landed, but Hiccup was eager to prove his dragons as a blessing, not a curse, even if it meant either landing hard and fast or landing on the outskirts and walking in.

"Nice landing!" Hiccup crooned, earning a joyful warble from his dragon as he rubbed its thick neck affectionately. "Hardly felt a thing."

He let a little girl down from her perch before rolling himself off in one swift jump. Maintaining his momentum, he ran towards Stoick, metallic foot clanging against the stone, and jumped up into his arms.

"Hi, Dad!"

Stoick mechanically wrapped an arm around his son's back. He could never figure out a proper response to Hiccup's eccentricities. Ever since his wife was taken away, Stoick was never any good at showing his affection for his son. He so desperately wanted - no, _needed_ \- Hiccup to be the ideal Viking the tribe would accept as their next chief after himself. He was always deathly afraid that showing any approval for anything other than perfection would lead to disaster. Perhaps that wasn't the best tact, but Hiccup just would _not_ fit in. He was always weak and clumsy. He would not embrace the Viking way, but instead was always seeking out his own mischief with his inventions.

After the dragon war ended, Stoick felt like he got an entirely new son. It was as if exposure to that Night Fury awakened inside the boy a fire that had never been seen before. His inventions stopped setting things on fire. He gained more confidence in his interactions with people. There have even been times when the boy's naturally snarky wit did _not_ make Stoick want to strangle him!

Hiccup got over his resentments toward his father surprisingly quickly, driven by his desire to see dragons incorporated into Berk's lifestyle. He flung himself headlong into trying to smooth things out, starting awkward conversations over supper. For a while, he's been giving drawings, carvings, and other little gifts to express his love for his father. Nowadays, it was this hugging and Stoick had absolutely no idea how to deal with that.

This new Hiccup was almost enough to make Stoick forget about his greatest stumbling block with his son. _Almost_. Every time he saw his son, he saw the panic in his wife's eyes when she was snared by the talons of a large dragon. He heard her scream for help as she was plucked from their home and flown away. He saw that bundled infant in his arms, that accursed _thing_ which distracted him from saving his beloved Val. His hatred for the beast that robbed him so terribly burned in his heart hotter than dragonfire and seeing the son that cost his wife only fanned the flames.

Now that the dragon war was over, perhaps it is safe to say that she has been avenged... maybe? What of the dragon that took her away? For all he knew, it could still be alive, enjoying a leisurely life at peace with the Vikings. His wife's killer could be nextdoor and how would anyone even know?

Stoick suddenly noticed the muffled gasping of his son who, apparently, couldn't breathe. He let the boy down with a mumbled "sorry" and pinched the bridge of his nose. Another headache was starting to throb in his temples.

 _Hatred will consume me. I have to get back to objective thinking._

Looking over Hiccup's shoulder at the little figure standing by the NIght Fury, he asked, "Who's _that_?"

Hiccup started to nervously scratch the back of his head. "Well, ummm, an unexpected surprise. Depending on how you look at it, she's a bonus from this rescue mission-"

"Or a liability towards our already tenuous peace treaty with our neighboring tribes." Stoick finished the sentence for his son.

The peace treaty that was, first a foremost, a show of trust and a threat of retaliation if a tribe breaks that trust. To break that trust with one tribe would be to invoke the wrath of every other tribe in the treaty until some agreed upon compensation is made.

"Yeah, I know," Hiccup sheepishly said to the stone ground. "I didn't like the surprise, either, but by the time I realized she was with Skuf, taking her back didn't seem like much of an option. Besides, she's an orphan and they have a tendency to... disappear, if you know what I mean. So, her absence shouldn't raise anyone's eyebrows. Skuf confirmed this. People simply don't look after the poor much anymore. At least, not since Dagur... ya know..."

Stoick slowly nodded. He lowered himself to one knee and looked over at the little girl.

Speaking up in his best attempt of a pleasant voice, he said, "Hello there. I'm Hiccup's father. My name is Stoick Haddock. Would you mind telling me your name?"

The little girl, still clinging to the Night Fury's neck, straightened. "Hi, Mr. Beast sir. Your son and Toothless told me all about you. I'm Tofa, but the dragons call me Little Butterfly. I kinda like it."

Stoick furrowed his bushy eyebrows. "Beast… Butterfly? What is this silly nonsense, Hiccup? Was she dropped on her head?"

Hiccup scowled and looked like he was about to snap back with something. Instead, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "I think it's worth noting that Tofa can hear dragons, just like Skuf. She's not as strong as him in hearing the unspoken words, but she's getting there. And the dragons named you Beast." Hiccup toned that last part as if he didn't entirely want to be heard.

"Another dragon whisperer..." Stoick toned. "And she can talk, so she doesn't need to write every damn thing."

"Yep." Hiccup perked up at seeing his father take this news better than he feared and look at her as if she's only _half_ insane. "She's really nice. Even as I was planning how to send her back, when I first learned she was with Skuf, my heart simply wouldn't let me."

Stoick nodded and raised himself to his feet again. "Well, we'll deal with that after the dragon... which I assume is coming soon?"

Hiccup snapped his fingers. "Ah, right!" Scanning around, he picked out a familiar face. "Astrid? Could I ask a favor?"

As she waved and started walking over from the crowd that had started to precipitate from his return, Hiccup turned back to his father and threw in, "We found a few dragons caged on that Outcast ship Skuf told us about. They're still on that ship with him, not far; just a hop, a skip, and a flap of the wings away. We're gonna set it on fire, as planned, and destroy it as completely as our dragons can, but with your permission, I was hoping we could show them the islands nearby that the other dragons from the nest have inhabited."

Stoick gave a nod as Astrid came up.

"Looks like your Rumblehorn came with a bonus," Astrid said, looking over to the lump clinging to the Night Fury's neck. "Say, where is he, anyway... and Skuf?"

"They're nestled in the Mazy Stacks," Hiccup said. "Remember Skuf talked about that Outcast ship?" Astrid nodded slowly. "Well, it turns out it did have caged dragons – a Nightmare and two Nadders. We freed them and they're friendly. They're still on the ship with Skuf and Skullcrusher. Could you-"

Astrid cut in, "Take them to the dragon safe islands? Sure. I'll get Storm."

"Thanks!" Hiccup shouted after Astrid's rapidly departing form. "Skuf is expecting you. Don't forget, Mazy Stacks."

Stoick bellowed out, "Astrid!"

The shieldmaiden stopped and turned. "Chief?"

"Don't just burn that ship. Make a hole in the deck and fill the holds and ballast with Zippleback gas. Blow it apart from the inside. Blast the whole thing into kindling."

Astrid instantly deflated. "Not the twins!" she moaned.

As if on cue, Tuffnut sprinted in, wrapping a lanky arm around Astrid's shoulder. Ruffnut joined her brother as they crowed how much destruction and mayhem they would get to cause. Astrid simply slid out of their grasps, knocked their heads together, and told the fallen twins to mount up.

Hiccup turned to his father. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Are you calling me scared, son?" Stoick bellowed. Then, lowering his voice, "Actually, I'm not so sure. I _did_ almost scare off Gobber's dragon, after all."

That Hotburple was, indeed, quite uncertain of Stoick's floundering attempt to introduce the fire-breathing beast to the village. What made such dragon introductions difficult was that to have the dragon introduced to Berk as a resident, Stoick decided he would personally introduce it before the village. This involved touching the dragon on the head to show it was friendly. At the time he and the council established such protocol, it seemed like such a great idea, but Stoick always had a very difficult time getting himself to touch a dragon, even if he knew it was friendly.

Hiccup chewed on his lower lip in thought. "They won't be here for a while... maybe you could practice on Toothless?"

Stoick waved it off. "I've already done the hand thing on him."

"I know, I know!" Hiccup quickly said in defense. "But maybe it would help prepare you for Skullcrusher. Ya know, can't hurt to warm up.

The Night Fury looked over at the two and, seeing Hiccup's gesture, started to walk over. Tofa still clung to its neck, walking alongside like a nervous bride clinging to her entourage. The dragon stopped just short of Stoick, who suddenly felt uneasy. The massive chief took a step forward, reaching out a hand tentatively, but stopped.

Stoick ground his teeth, frustrated at himself. He had lived with dragons in his village and even one in his very house for almost two years, but the beasts always unnerved him. During the dragon war; Stoick was very calm and confident in fighting the dragons. However, this whole peace with dragons… allowing them so close without drawing a weapon… every fiber in his being screamed and shouted, "Draw your weapon, fool!".

Hiccup looked at Stoick, then his dragon, then back at Stoick. He rolled his eyes, clearly expecting something like this and dryly said, "Almost there... almost there... is something wrong, Dad?"

"Mr. Stoick sir, Toothless is really nice," Tofa encouraged as she grabbed the dragon's lower jaw. The beast rolled its eyes up, retracted its teeth and playfully gnawed on her fingers with its gums. "I promise he won't bite you."

Stoick sighed as he looked over to Hiccup. "Gods, son, why is this so _hard_? It's so easy for _you_ to trust these creatures. Why can't I do the same?"

Lowering his voice so only Stoick could hear, Hiccup whispered "Because I lost a mother I never knew, but you lost the woman you loved. I have no right to suggest that this should be easy at all for you, Dad. All I can do is support you in whatever way I can."

Stoick let out a long sigh. The Night Fury trilled and warbled in encouragement.

"Great, now I'm being patronized by a dragon!"

Hiccup spoke up, a little louder this time. "Well, there's your cause, Dad. You don't see _Toothless_. You don't see your son's best friend in the whole world. You see..." his face twisted into a mock scowl. "a _dragon_."

Stoick chewed on his lip.

Hiccup suggested, "Maybe if you closed your eyes and just held out your hand? It would be a start, at least." Sardonically, "Toothless is well aware that biting you would make our father-son relationship really awkward. You can take comfort in knowing that."

He was tempted to hold onto his father's hand as he did with the other dragon riders his age when introducing them to the dragons. However, the whole point of Stoick touching the dragon was to show the village that he, as the chief, declared the dragon to be safe. He would need to do it alone.

Stoick nodded, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and held out his hand. He could sense the beast taking a cautious step forward to bump its nose into the outstretched hand. He tried to fight it, but ended up jumping back as his eyes snapped open.

"Dammit, it's all fire and blood!"

Hiccup groaned. The Night Fury huffed.

"All I see is starvation, torn and burnt flesh, and hypothermia!"

Hiccup made a face of exasperation.

"I'm not a simpleton!" Stoick said in annoyance. "I _know_ all this suffering was ultimately caused by the Red Death. I _know_ your dragon ended the war. Gods, this is so hard!"

Hiccup stepped over to the Night Fury, casually scratching its eye ridge, staring into its large pupils.

With a voice that came out soft, but strong enough to carry over, he said "I haven't seen the same things you have, Dad. I haven't felt the pains you endured. I haven't lost what you lost. However, when I look at Toothless, I see my best friend. I see someone who showed me a freedom I could have never imagined every time I get on his back. I see a companion who breathed meaning into my life."

The dragon cooed and pressed its nose into Hiccup's chest. Nobody could deny it was an endearing sight that portrayed the deep and powerful bond the two have forged.

Hiccup tilted his head to the side, cheek pressed against his dragon's snout. "I see a faithful friend who I would trust with my very life without a second thought – who saved me from certain death. Can you try to see _that_ when you look at Toothless?"

The dragon gave the boy's cheek a quick lick and arched its head past his shoulder. It retracted its teeth to give a gummy smile to Stoick, who just stared as if deep in thought.

"I'll try, son. I've decided long ago that when it comes to dragons, I trust your judgment. And by extension..."

Stoick quickly took a step forward and thrust his hand, touching his fingers to the dragon's nose in a rough motion. Startled by the sudden move, it jerked its head back, but quickly recovered and pressed its nose into Stoick's palm.

The burly Viking felt the connection, the emotion from the dragon. While only Skuf - and Tofa, it would seem - can hear them, Stoick learned that anyone can feel their primal emotions when they make contact, at least on some level or to some degree. Stoick let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, feeling the calm composure flow from the beast.

After a moment, he suddenly pulled his hand back and straightened his posture. "Yep, I'm ready. See? Easy! Nothing to it! To think you doubted your old man. Kids these days!"

A din of relieved laughter could be heard from the councilmen and other villagers who had gathered around the town square.

Hiccup whispered, "Thanks, Bud. I think we're good, now."

Stoick watched the dragon withdraw to the edge of the town square, away from the people, where it laid down and curled its tail around itself.

Tofa was left standing next to Hiccup, staring longingly after the dragon. She looked up at Hiccup and said, "Mr. Firefly, sir, can I go play with Toothless?"

Hiccup motioned for her to go ahead. Stoick raised an eyebrow. "Firefly?"

Hiccup gave a wry grin. "Yeah, ummm, that's the name Toothless gave me. Skuf and Tofa told me..."

Stoick rolled his eyes. _Dragon names. Great! What next? Dragon poetry? Dragon philosophy? Dragon gods?_

"I think it's because I mystify and enchant him or something like that." Hiccup tossed in as if that was supposed to explain anything.

At that, the Night Fury jerked its head up and looked at its rider, ducking its head and licking its gums as if it wanted to go over and lick him, but restrained itself. Instead, it gave a quick lick to Tofa, who started to climb onto its front leg that was laid out on the ground.

Hiccup nervously went on. "Remember how Skuf said dragons communicate? They don't use words, so why would they use names? There's lots of allegory and imagery in how dragons talk. _Our_ names don't really mean anything to them unless people think of an image while saying it – like Fishlegs or Hiccup. They catch the notion of a fish with legs for Fishlegs or an involuntary muscle contraction for my name – thanks for that by the way, Dad."

"Hey" Stoick threw his arms up in defense. "It was your mother's idea. And I haven't seen any trolls since."

'Riiight..." Hiccup intoned dryly. "So, Toothless – or any dragon for that matter – may name someone they've gotten to know based on something they understand... an animal or plant or event or temperament that they would relate to that person. So, I guess I remind him of the effect fireflies have on him when he sees me."

"Interesting..." Gobber piped up. "I wonder if Grump gave _me_ a name?"

Hiccup shrugged and flicked a glance at the slumbering dragon. "Guess you'll have to ask Skuf or Tofa to ask him for you. I would take a wild guess and say he named you something like Landslide or Boar."

Hiccup flinched in anticipation of a well-deserved smack on the back of his head and was not disappointed.

"Sunset, sir."

Everyone turned in surprise to look at Tofa.

"He named you Sunset. He asked Toothless to tell me so I could tell you."

"Sunset?" Gobber grumbled as he stole a glance towards the smithy where his dragon lay with a single eye propped open. "I ain't _that_ old, ya lumpy pile o' scales!"

"Sir, I think you misunderstand." Tofa raised her voice so it would reach Gobber, but it appeared she was attempting to melt into The Night Fury's neck.

Gobber smiled and took a few steps towards her. "Alright, how so, Tofa?"

"Well, sir, he named you sunset because you provide comfort to your people at the end of a weary day and direction for tomorrow. The dragon sees the mind more than the body."

Gobber chuckled. "Well thank you, Tofa, for sharing that for Grump."

Then, raising his voice over to his dragon, he shouted, "Grump, I take back that whole lumpy pile of scales comment. You are the most _handsome_ pile of scales I have ever seen!"

The Hotburple gave out a low, pleasant trill and flashed what was probably supposed to be a grin at its rider before going back to sleep.

Their conversation was pierced by a loud roar overhead. All eyes turned skyward to see the Rumblehorn carrying Skuf as they circled above the village.

"Ah," Stoick grumbled. "About time our guest showed up."

########

* * *

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Stoick felt the need to assert something authoritative with his loud bellows. "Clear a space, everyone. Big space for a big dragon."

He idly watched people hastily scurry out of the way of the large Rumblehorn on its final approach. It landed with a heavy and decidedly ungraceful thud, sending a puff of snow in the air from the stone walkways. Skuf quickly disentangled himself from the impromptu saddle and slid down the side of the dragon's neck, looping an arm around the horn at the tip of its snout. He then led his dragon to the center of the village square, where Stoick and Hiccup beckoned him over.

The councilmen gathered around Stoick, who raised his voice for all to hear. "Welcome back, Skuf."

The mute smiled and thumped his chest with his right fist in greeting.

The chief decided to begin this meeting on an official note to establish the protocol. "We'll hear the details of the mission soon enough, but let's first examine your dragon and come to a decision. As we all know, this is something we do for any person we decide to induct into our tribe. After the Red Death was destroyed, the council has decided that dragons can also count as people and can also become a part of our tribe if we come to a consensus.

"However, they are very different from us Vikings and are not familiar with our way of life, nor the law and code of honor to which we are all bound, so this dragon would need to be under your responsibility, Skuf. Now, everyone, we have already admitted Skuf into our tribe, but we must decide about his dragon. Skuf, since you are mute, do you have someone to speak on your behalf?"

Stoick would have been surprised if he hadn't heard Hiccup say, "Skuf has asked me to speak on his behalf." It was encouraging to see the boy taking this meeting seriously. It reflected in his tone and choice of words.

"Proceed."

Hiccup approached Skuf and the Rumblehorn with calmness and an air of authority as he smiled at them and started to idly scratch the dragon under the chin, eliciting a rumbling warble. The very ground seemed to vibrate and many people took a half-step back while instinctively reaching for their waist. Even with the dragon war ended, old habits die hard, but they all quickly regained their composure.

Hiccup frowned nervously and took a moment to compose himself before beginning his introduction. He felt there was an odd sort of symmetry that he was one of the people called on to speak for Skuf when he was accepted into the tribe and, now, his dragon.

"Thank you, chief. This, here, is Skullcrusher. During the ship ride back from Berserker Island, Skuf told me about Skullcrusher's past and how he got to know him. Skullcrusher is a Rumblehorn dragon, characterized by his large, bulbous body, club-like tail, and heavily armored exterior. He also has excellent tracking skills with his superior sense of smell."

Fishlegs tossed in, "And a whopping knockback strength of twenty!"

Stoick groaned. "Time and place, Legs."

The bulky rider cringed. "Sorry, sir."

Hiccup exchanged looks with Skuf. "Skullcrusher's past is actually a pretty sad tale. As with every dragon you've seen your entire life, ever since the day he cracked his egg, he had been under the control of the Red Death. However, after the dragons were released from the Red Death's mind control, Skullcrusher was promptly captured by the Berserker tribe and locked in a cage... similar to..." Hiccup scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, similar to how we caged dragons here on Berk during the war.

"One main difference, though, is that Skullcrusher wasn't used for training. Instead, Dagur used him as an entertaining way to get rid of… undesirables. Skullcrusher was starved of any food for several days and then put in an arena to fight. Since he's here today, you can guess who was victorious in all those fights. It was cruel to the dragon to use him in such a way. Nothing short of depravity could describe the people who did this."

A low murmur could be heard among some of the Hooligans. The council declared that the dragons with riders could live peaceably on Berk, but it wasn't always sunshine and roses with the villagers. Still, some seemed to be genuinely upset at such treatment to this dragon. Others… didn't want to make a scene by voicing their disinterest.

Hiccup pressed on. "Skuf assures us that this violent past is well behind us. Such behavior on the part of Skullcrusher was not because he is a mean dragon, but simply because of his treatment. Before you judge him, please ask yourself how irritable _you_ would be if starved for days and then thrown into an arena with angry Vikings trying to kill you."

A scattering of chuckles rippled around. Feeling more confident, Hiccup continued. "How Skuf befriended Skullcrusher is actually an interesting story. We've all heard about how Dagur took over as chief of Berserker Island about a year ago. Well, he was simply annoyed that Skuf was a mute. He knew that dragons were calm and cooperative for Skuf. However, because Skuf's advice could come only through a slate board, Dagur tossed him into the dragon's den."

Stoick shot Hiccup a stern look. Now was not the time to get everyone distracted on a different topic. People were already working themselves up into a fit.

"Monsters!"

"They're in our _peace_ treaty?"

"How could people be so cruel-"

"SILENCE! " Stoick bellowed out. "We are here to decide if we want to accept Skullcrusher as a resident on our island, _not_ to discuss the politics and ethics of the Berserkers. That can wait for some other time."

After a moment of silence, he held Hiccup with a stern glare and motioned for him to continue.

"Uhh, thanks," Hiccup sheepishly said. Collecting himself, he went on. "Anyways, Skuf was thrown into this arena with a starving Skullcrusher and not because of any wrongdoing on his part. Keep in mind Skullcrusher wasn't just hungry. Dragons are naturally lean creatures with almost no fat marbling whatsoever; I bet even _I_ have more fat on me than Skullcrusher. His body was literally eating itself.

"Despite that, when Skullcrusher was released to attack Skuf... well, he didn't. He went over and established a bond with him, instead. They became friends when Skullcrusher was supposed to kill him. Dag- Uhhh, the Berserkers were more amused than angered, so Skuf was yanked out and assigned to feed and clean up after the dragons, which allowed him to commune with Skullcrusher more and establish a deeper friendship.

"One benefit to having Skullcrusher on our Island is that he is a tracking dragon. His sense of smell is far superior to any other that we know. He can track people based on, say, a whiff of their personal effects, for example." As Hiccup craned his neck to look up at the top of the Rumblehorn's back, he added, "And he also presents some interesting challenges in designing a saddle."

Gobber shouted, "ACH! I got some ideas already!"

Hiccup took a step back and said "So, everyone, this is Skullcrusher. Skullcrusher, this is Berk."

The dragon gave a short roar and pressed its maw into Hiccup's chest. Though Stoick had little doubt the dragon would be accepted, he decided it was time to press forward with the formalities.

"Alright!" Stoick raised his voice to cut through the chatter that had already risen up again. "We have a decision to make. Do we allow Skullcrusher as a resident on Berk under the responsibility of Skuf? All in favor, say 'aye'."

There was a resounding chorus that spoke up in the affirmative. Stoick took special note of his fellow councilmen, preparing himself for what he saw must come.

"All opposed, say 'nay'."

"Nay!"

A murmur rippled through the crowd as Stoick took note that it was Spitelout who spoke up. The man wasn't all that fond of Skuf, having managed to become more of a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist than even the chief. Skuf was far from shy about pointing out the way Snotlout running his mouth and his resistance to accept reprimands will cost his life one day. Consequently, Snotlout felt humiliated and always gave Skuf the cold shoulder. By extension, why should his father give any favor to Skuf's dragon?

This could present a problem. Only a year ago, Mildew had stirred up a bit of chaos and got the town rallied against the five dragons on Berk. The council decided to have the riders fly them to an island a ways away and then a ship would pick them up. That only ended in a fiasco when the ship arrived and the riders all refused to leave without their dragons.

Stoick was there. He saw things unfold for himself. The riders declared that they would live with their dragons _away_ from Berk if they couldn't live with their dragons _on_ Berk. Any attempt to get them on the boat was met with a game of hard-to-get on dragonback. Throwing axes or bolas at the beasts ran too much risk of hurting the riders, so Stoick went back home and tried to wait it out. However, the parents raised a preemptive Ragnarok in response. Stoick even crossed blades with Spitelout when he heard of the chief's "solution".

In the end, Stoick struck a bargain with the riders where he promised to twist the council's arm into accepting these five dragons on Berk if Hiccup would form an official dragon training academy to train regularly and deal with any issues that arise.

If Skuf is forced to make such a decision, too... well, he's a dragon whisperer. If he leaves Berk, he will end up somewhere else. Maybe the promise of great fortune and fame would eventually sway him and an enemy tribe will gain him as an ally. Even though there's this Tofa girl, who's to say the council will accept her? She came here because of Skuf, so it only stands to reason Skuf would take her with him. She's not a Hooligan, so who's to stop her from flying off with Skuf on the rejected Skullcrusher? What could an enemy tribe do if they gain the favor of these dragon whisperers?

Stoick noticed the noise had risen so much that nobody could be heard and shouted, "SILENCE! Spitelout, would you like to explain?"

"Yes, I would." Spitelout looked around as he composed his thoughts and spoke up. "I have no reason to doubt that Skuf and Hiccup are sincere when they speak of their trust in this dragon. However, I have one concern that I feel should be addressed directly before we consider allowing him in. I think we can all accept that any death and destruction caused by the dragons during the war can be forgiven – forgotten," Spitelout hastily added as he recognized several people on the island viewed dragons as equals or almost equals. Dragons killed Vikings, true, but Vikings also killed dragons.

He continued, saying, "They were in a trance and literally had no control over their actions. However, it seems Skullcrusher killed many people _after_ the Red Death, when he was free from this mind control trance and able to control his actions. Now, I understand the circumstances basically forced this sort of behavior. I can't say I would not do the same thing if I were in the dragon's position..."

A chuckle spread throughout the crowd.

"Even though Skullcrusher would receive infinitely better treatment here than cages and starvation, what assurance do we have that such a violent past will not be a threat to us?"

Everyone started murmuring as Spitelout scanned the area, trying not to stare at the dragon, Skuf, and Hiccup. Skuf scribbled something on his slate board and passed it over the Rumblehorn's snout to Hiccup. After reading the slate, Hiccup raised his hand to ask the people to listen. After the din of voices settled down, he spoke up.

"That is a valid point, Spitelout, and deserves to be addressed. But here's something Skuf would ask us all to consider. How many dragons have you killed during the war?"

Before Spitelout could answer, Hiccup pressed on. "And how many have you slain _after_ the war ended, knowing they are friendly around here? The answer is obvious, of course - for the latter question, that is. Please do not tell me the former. It would break my heart."

A nervous laugh dotted the crowd. Stoick couldn't help but appreciate the tact of his son in asserting his respect for dragons in a way that people who were paying attention would easily pick up on, but not too brash as to be disrespectful to those who do not share the same sympathies. Sometimes, the boy actually _did_ use his brain.

"Were you being mind-controlled?" Hiccup asked. "Were you caught in some sort of trance? No, of course not! You acted of your own free will. Nobody _forced_ you to kill a dragon, but you were still able to put the past aside and reevaluate how you see them. You see a risk in accepting this dragon amongst us Vikings and I agree that your concern is reasonable. I, too, would be very nervous about introducing _you_ to a group of dragons as I just could not stand the thought of any of _them_ getting hurt."

Stoick didn't quite like the insinuations, there. The dark muttering showed that he wasn't alone. Hiccup could be so easily offended by the simplest things, but running his mouth like that wasn't going to help. That was something decades as chief had taught him. One gains far more favor with a drop of honey than all the venom in the world.

"Spitelout, sir, for example, you were able to curb your instinct to reach for your ax every time you saw your son's dragon, Hookfang. Was it easy? Gods, No! And who could blame you? We all had that time of transition - confronting that knee-jerk reaction to reach for a weapon whenever we see a dragon. It took me a while to stop flinching every time Toothless made a sudden move when I first befriended him and it took him a while to even let me _touch_ him. But we all made the transition without any heads rolling around. Was it not all for the better? If a _Viking_ can learn to curb past habits, is there _any_ creature in this world that can't?"

Many people burst into laughter at that last statement, but there was still that dark undercurrent that lingered.

Sensing that his son's speech was done, Stoick muttered out the side of his mouth, "Remember what happened last year, brother. If _we_ lose the dragon whisperer, who knows which of our _enemies_ will gain him."

Spitelout leaned over to Stoick and quietly said, "Look at your own reflection before you mistake me for a fool. It was I who voted we use a bit more tact than to head-butt the Red Death. Just wanted to get that on the table, that's all."

Stoick suppressed a growl and pinched the bridge of his nose as his temples started to throb. Again.

 _Drop of honey. Drop of honey. Ax in skull! Drop of honey. Sundered in half! Drop of honey. Drop of honey. Blood everywhere! Drop of honey._

He spoke up, saying, "Spitelout, you've held your peace so far. Do you have anything you would like to add or say in response?"

Spitelout took a step forward. "I have no more questions. Thank you."

Hiccup and Skuf exchanged nervous glances. The council needed a unanimous vote to accept a dragon on the island as a resident and they knew it. The other people can speak their mind, but the council cannot have any votes against. As if sensing the gravity of this moment, the Rumblehorn raised its head and swept its eyes over the crowd. It pressed its nose into Skuf's chest and received some scratches on its snout, then laid its head down again.

Stoick raised his hand to silence the people one last time. "Alright, if that matter is concluded, then I will call for a vote again. As a reminder, we are deciding if we want to accept Skullcrusher as a resident on Berk under the responsibility of Skuf. All in favor, say 'Aye'."

Stoick took special note of Spitelout as he heard another resounding chorus in the affirmative.

He then clapped his brother on the shoulder and raised his voice again. "All opposed, say 'nay'."

"NAY!"

Everyone looked over to the source of the voice to see Mildew striding forward. The dragon teeth clattered at the tip of his walking staff as he moved. What held that old, wrinkly thing together was a mystery, but he had an outspoken hatred for dragons, even the friendly ones on Berk. His foiled attempts at framing the beasts for vandalism in recent days, though, has diminished the credibility of his word significantly.

Stoick looked over at the Rumblehorn with Skuf and Hiccup still leaning on its snout. "Mildew, the council acknowledges your stance regarding dragons."

In his head, he also said, _and we also recognize your insanity for what it is. Thank the gods our forefathers allowed us to vote off certain members from the council._

Out loud, Stoick bellowed, "Skullcrusher, welcome to Berk!"

Laughter and cheering erupted in the crowd as Stoick took a few steps forward. Hiccup and Skuf grinned at each other over the dragon's head. With a heroic effort, the dragon rose up to its feet and padded over to Stoick, stopping just short. The poor thing was actually trembling a bit, but it was visible only to the chief and the two riders.

Stoick reached out his hand, but stopped an arms-length away. Skuf, seeing his hesitation, wrapped his fingers around one of the dragon's teeth that extended past its lips in an overbite and wrapped the fingers of his other hand around one of its nostrils, trying to make it appear tamer and less threatening. By now, the cheering had subdued into a baited silence.

Stoick took a deep breath. He tried closing his eyes, but saw only fire and blood. He opened his eyes and stared at his son. Hope and disappointment were simultaneously written on the boy's face.

WHACK!

Something hard struck Stoick in the shoulder and he stumbled forward and braced himself against the dragon's snout. He didn't even have to look behind him to know who his assailant was. He could just imagine her leaning on her staff, smiling benignly.

"Thanks… Gothi."

Fortunately, the dragon took it all in stride and gave a lick to his hand.

Looking down to the dragon, Stoick said, "Don't worry, big fella. As long as you respect us, we will respect you. Welcome to Berk."


	10. Hard Questions

**10 - Hard Questions**

"There! Now lemme see it with my own eyes."

Hiccup tore the scarf off his head that was serving as a blindfold and tossed it to the side. It landed on a black scaled leg, which casually shook it off. He was laid out with his belly to the floor, cradled by his dragon's forelegs and head. Even though Hiccup's eyes had been closed in concentration for quite some time, the meager gray light from the open window was barely enough to make out most details of the bedroom. Rain and thunder had moved into Berk and were there to stay, so he decided to do some drawing inside and Toothless was happy to participate in this impromptu experiment.

In the dim light, Hiccup could faintly make out the adornments that littered the walls of his little haven. Above his bed hung his original saddle and tailfin, tattered and charred. Across the room, just next to the opened window shutters that shed the rain while allowing in the meager light, above the flat slab of basalt stone that was the only bed his dragon would accept, his old and charred flight harness was nailed to the wall. Looking that direction was a mistake, though, as a bolt of lightning had him seeing spots for a while.

As his vision recovered, his largest drawing ever, hung between the two "beds", started to come into focus. That project was what had kept Hiccup sane in those first couple weeks after waking from battling the Red Death, back when he couldn't walk for long on his prosthetic leg before requiring rest. She was the gargantuan dragon queen that dominated the minds of all the dragons in the area. The drawing commemorated the victory he and Toothless brought the day she was killed. The perspective was from right next to her head as she dove after the dragon and rider duo. Hatred poured out of every detail, from the eyes squinted in rage to the claws stretched out to take them out.

Toothless was drawn in ahead of the Red Death, body curled, wings extended under his belly and whipping in the wind, plummeting with his back toward the ground as he shot the fireball that killed the beast. Hiccup was pressed down low, hands gripping the saddle, with a knowing smirk stretched across his face.

Actually, Hiccup had also done his best to draw some subtle hints of confusion and uncertainty in certain details of the Red Death, like the set of her jaw, the crossed eyes, and dilated nostrils. He let the viewer draw their own conclusions without comment, but secretly regretted that they killed her. Hiccup's greatest success in life all started when he chose to spare a life any other Viking would have taken. They all thought dragons were pure evil until they learned the Red Death was the cause of all raids. _Then_ , they assumed the Red Death was pure evil, but who could know for certain? Maybe if Hiccup had the luxury of time, he could have gotten to know the great creature better and figured out some mutually beneficial compromise?

He didn't dare try to draw the Red Death happily coexisting with the Vikings and Dragons as he knew exactly how everyone would take such an implication. Toothless would be seriously offended and that alone was sufficient reason to avoid such things.

Finally, Hiccup turned his attention to his newest creation, sprawled out underneath.

"Not bad," he drawled out contemplatively.

This was his fourth drawing today. He was starting to hear some of the unspoken words from Toothless and had decided that blindfolding himself and trying to draw using the visions from his dragon's own sight would be a great way to test and strengthen his receptivity. After emotions, visual imagery seemed to be the next thing Hiccup started to faintly detect - specifically what was seen at the moment. He could not yet receive memories projected from Toothless, but his reception of the basic senses was getting stronger.

Now that the Night Fury wasn't occupied in providing his eyesight for his rider, he huffed at the finished drawing. It was the scene from when Skullcrusher was introduced to Berk. Stoick had his hand placed on Skullcrusher's snout as he greeted the dragon. However, Hiccup could sense Toothless' disapproval over one detail. Skullcrusher stood there with his head level and joy written all throughout his posture, but in reality, he was really so nervous and scared while Skuf had his hands on the dragon's maw to help Stoick gather the courage to touch him.

At least Skullcrusher's clean snout and neck were accurate details in the drawing. With all the vicious fights the large dragon was made to be a part of, dirt and dried blood were caked all over his maw and underside. Fortunately, they found some stiff-bristled brushes and a bucket on the Outcast ship on the way to Berk and were able to scrub it all off. Well, _Skuf_ ended up doing almost all the work. Toothless got to help, at the insistence of Skullcrusher himself, by providing some gentle streams of fire to carbonize some of the blood that wouldn't scrub off the carapace plates and scales. Hiccup had grabbed a brush to help at first, but ended backing away because he "was getting tired."

It was just such an unsettling sight. Hiccup was no stranger to blood from animals. In fact, the skins he harvested from the animals Toothless killed gave Hiccup some buying power whenever a trader came to port. But this wasn't the blood of animals. They were _people_! They had families and friends. How many widows had to explain to their crying children that Daddy wouldn't be coming home tonight? Or tomorrow. Or ever!

It wasn't Skullcrusher's fault. His conditions were not too dissimilar to the Red Death's control. He was a very brutal dragon, though. He even managed to get some gore on his back. Acting as a translator, Tofa explained how the dragon would sometimes feel so angry and would still be in the heat of rage after killing his enemies. He would feel this urge to do more damage, so he would grind their bodies into the ground, impale them with his horns, and-

The little girl was so adorable and caring, but the way she so casually describes such macabre scenes… She has definitely seen what no human should have to witness, let alone a child!

Hiccup shook the chill from his spine and craned his neck around to look at his friend. A pair of slit pupils, couched in acid green orbs, flicked from the paper to meet his stare. _Somebody_ objected his rider's poetic license in making Skullcrusher look happy and relaxed in the drawing.

"Yeah, I know, it's not entirely accurate, Bud, but that's what I like so much about drawing. When I draw, I have _power_. I can envision how things _should_ have been. How I wanted it to be different. I can draw the reality I could not create. I have complete and absolute authority-", Hiccup tapped the paper, "-over this."

Toothless raised one of his front paws and flicked Hiccup's shoulder in annoyance with the smooth, curved back of his claw.

"PHHT! Why not?" he demanded. "Nah, I see nothing wrong with making Skullcrusher look calm, confident, and happy when Dad introduced him to Berk. I know better, you know better, but this is just a drawing, anyway, and if I have the power to create with my pencil, then I shall exercise that power. Consider your tail fin, for example. I drew a Night Fury who could fly before I first made a fin to do just that."

Hiccup saw no issue with this form of escape and release. Back before he met Toothless, he had also drawn other inaccurate scenes of a very large and strong Hiccup with his foot resting on a dragon, ax impaling its neck, and Astrid swooning as she clung to his bulging bicep. When Toothless saw it over a year later while shoving Hiccup aside to nose through his drawings - literally - the dragon wasn't offended as Hiccup initially feared. He was amused. Very, very amused. So amused, in fact, that he had grabbed the drawing in his mouth and bolted for the _last_ person Hiccup wanted to lay eyes on it. He wasn't sure if Astrid was amused or offended at her portrayal. The reasons she would punch him in the shoulder are often a mystery.

Toothless chuffed as he made the same connection in his mind. Hiccup groaned.

"Look here..."

He flipped the paper around to a clean side and started to quickly sketch Toothless – something he has become quite practiced and expeditious in doing. Not that it mattered what he drew when _anything_ drawn on this new, clean, almost white paper was a thrilling experience. A small stack of it cost him the hefty price of two tanned seal skins and a bear pelt, but it was totally worth it! The metal pen, which he had forged himself to replace the quill, slid smoothly across the surface to produce nice, dark lines.

He drew the stocky, serpentine neck of his dragon, the wedge-shaped head with the ear fins on the top and sides, but stopped after he roughed out the front legs and wings as he ran out of space on the paper for how large the front half of Toothless was. It was a habit he could never suppress. Whenever he had the luxury of using his pen and the wonderful ink bottle, he just couldn't stop himself. It was so nice having his own pen with his own "Hiccup flair" added to prevent the ink from dripping and spattering.

The Night Fury warbled joyfully as he recognized the start of another drawing of himself. He really liked seeing those drawings as they always displayed some aspect his rider admired of him – his strength, speed, pride, or a really big fish in his mouth, for example.

"When I draw," Hiccup continued distractedly, his pen a moving blur, "I have power. Granted, that power is confined to this paper, but I still have power nonetheless. With this pen, I am Odin. I am Zeus! If I decide that you should have a beard..."

Hiccup started to sketch just that with long, quick strokes. Actually, as he drew, he realized it was starting to look like his father's beard.

"Then by Thor, you shall have a beard and it shall be mighty!"

Toothless groaned his embarrassment at the sight of such of an abominable thing and grabbed the pen out of Hiccup's hand with his teeth, tossing it to the side. He then grimaced at the taste of ink and frantically liked his rider's back.

Hiccup looked at his dragon with a crooked grin. "Serves you right for taking my pen, but c'mon. It's a glorious beard! I think it looks good on you!"

The dragon voiced his objection by shifting his weight to flatten his rider to the floor, drawing out a groan from below.

"I guess I'll let you take it into consideration," Hiccup wheezed, cheek pressed down firmly under Toothless' chin.

A sudden telltale creak of the stairs caused Toothless' head to shoot up and a booming voice reverberated through the closed door to his room. "Hiccup?"

"Yeah, Dad, c'mon in."

Toothless raised himself to an upright sitting position, allowing Hiccup to pull his legs out from under his dragon's torso and raise himself up to sit and lean against the warm scaly backrest. Stoick opened the door and scanned the room, his face unreadable as ever. He decided to sit down in a chair along the wall.

The chief peered out at the duo from behind the red braids of his massive beard in the dim light.

"Hey, son... Night Fury."

"Dad!" Hiccup was put-off by the rough start to this conversation. "You _know_ his name! Though I suppose that is an upgrade from 'dragon'."

A sigh escaped Stoick and a grin briefly flashed across his face.

"Toothless."

The Night Fury made eye contact with a brief nod, a gesture he learned from observing the Vikings… or land-striders, as Hiccup learned from Skuf and Tofa. A flicker of surprise could be seen in Stoick's face at seeing such a human gesture from a dragon.

Continuing, he said, "Kinda dark in here. How can you see anything?"

As if on cue, A flash of lightning and the nearly instant - and deafening - report of thunder drew their attention to the window, completely destroying their vision in the very low light that followed. Hiccup grinned up at his father, though his expression went unseen to one who didn't have a nocturnal dragon's eyes to see through.

"Oh, right. Let's get that lantern going. Toss me that lighting stick?"

A lantern mounted on the wall beside the door seemed to beckon to Stoick. He grabbed a slender stick that was poking out of its holder on the side, dipped the tip in the oil, and tossed it to his son. Hiccup held it up to the side of his head and Toothless blew out a narrow stream of fire to light it. Stoick, chuckling at the sight, grabbed the now flaming stick Hiccup extended to him, and lit the lantern.

With some appreciable light in the room, the chief visibly relaxed and said, "There's not really anything for me to do today with this weather. It's good for the crops, anyway. Water keeps the plants alive, but rain and lightning make 'em grow. Everyone's holed up inside. I'd like to chat." he gestured to Hiccup and added, "A bit cold to have no shirt on, don't you think?"

Hiccup had to admit that he was starting to get goosebumps without a dragon acting as a scaly blanket, so he reached over for his tunic. Even at the start of summer, the air outside was still quite chilly in the mid-morning. Berk never got warm, it just got not-quite-so-cold.

"Yeah, but we were trying out something Skuf suggested. Ya know how contact with a dragon connects you to him, right?"

Stoick slowly nodded.

"Well, I thought maybe some more skin contact, like my back against Toothless' neck and chest, would help."

Stoick chewed his lower lip. "And?"

Hiccup shrugged. "I think it may have helped a little. I'm definitely making progress, though. Here-"

His prosthetic foot thumped on the wooden floor as he lunged forward to hand the paper to his father.

"Is that... your dragon... with a beard?"

Toothless rolled his eyes as he groaned. Hiccup tried to contain his laughter, which just came out as snorts through his nose.

"Isn't it glorious?!"

Something scaly snapped at the back of Hiccup's head as Toothless gave a rude snort. Hiccup looked back to see a tail settling back down to the floor.

"Ow! Ok, I guess I deserved that one," Hiccup grumbled. Dragons are prideful creatures after all and Toothless is the most prideful of dragons.

Stoick jerked his head up at the noise and frowned as Hiccup rubbed the back of his head.

"Don't look at him like that, Dad," Hiccup quickly said, defensively. "He was just playing. Toothless would never hurt me!"

Toothless huffed and gave his rider a quick lick on the side of his face.

"Besides," Hiccup continued with sarcasm in his voice, "Toothless wouldn't want to make me angry or I'd beat him up with my massive Viking muscles."

"Where did those scars come from?" Stoick suddenly asked.

Hiccup could never get used to the frankness of his father's non-sequitur questions.

"What?"

"The scars on your shoulders."

Stoick had never seen his son without his tunic on for the past several years, so these scars were news to him no matter how old they were.

"Oh, those."

Hiccup absentmindedly brushed his index finger over the tunic where one the scars rested. There was one on his left shoulder and two on his right.

"Ummm, well... I never told you about when I first met Toothless, did I?"

An unreadable face stared back at Hiccup from behind a beard.

"Where did those scars come from? I know dragon claw marks when I see them. Nothing else makes a teardrop shape quite like that. Those are clearly claw marks, but more of a puncture than a tear."

Hiccup looked flustered. "I'm getting to that! Remember that night when I shot down Toothless? Nobody believed me..."

Stoick nodded and Toothless huffed at the memory.

"Well..." Hiccup trailed off, unsure how to approach this. He never liked talking about that time in his life, but he knew his father would not allow him to dance around it.

Stoick gave his son a flat stare. "And then you were chased by the Monstrous Nightmare, but that can't be what gave you the scars. They're spaced too close together to be from the talons on its wings or legs."

Hiccup scratched the back of his head nervously. "No, ummm... when I found Toothless in the forest later that day, I cut him loose and-"

"So _your_ dragon gave you those scars."

Stoick cast a leery glare at Toothless, who lowered his head and nuzzled his rider's shoulder. Hiccup was offended for his dragon's sake. The old man was tolerant of the Night Fury's presence, but never accepting. This, though, set a new standard for the cold shoulder.

"Dad, it's not what you think!"

Actually, Hiccup thought to himself, it pretty much _is_ what his father thought. Not a single day has passed that he doesn't dwell on that morning, but his mind always skipped over that one moment before he lost consciousness. Still, that vision that could never be forgotten was seared into his mind.

After he shot down the Night Fury with his bola ballista and found it in the woods, Hiccup was disappointed that it was still alive and he would have to kill it himself. He couldn't, of course. As he used his knife to saw at the ropes binding the creature, he told himself what he knew every _proper_ Viking would call him if they saw what he was doing.

"Spineless!"

That's one safe statement he figured Astrid would make as the rope snapped from the tension released from the first cut.

"Foolish!"

His own father called him out in his mind as he made the second cut in the mess of ropes. Hiccup paused in thought. The dragon should be able to wriggle out of its bindings, but was completely still for some strange reason. One more cut should completely unravel the mess of ropes.

"Failure!"

Just as Hiccup realized that last one came out of his own mouth, the snapping of the rope and the impact of the dragon's paw on his chest merged into one sound. Pinned against a rock, all he could do was stare into the dragon's eyes. He never thought that he could garner so much information from _anyone's_ eyes. Hatred, contempt, and rancor pressed down in that cold, calculating stare.

Hiccup could only stare back dumbly. He was afraid to die, but there was nobody to blame but himself. His actions were driven by his heart, not his head. In the clarity of hindsight, he could see that he simply wasn't _thinking_ when he cut the ropes. What _else_ could one expect from a dragon that was practically _begging_ him to kill it, placing its head on the ground, exposing its neck and closing its eyes? Is it not right to grant a quick death to someone who is so eager to accept it?

That is the Viking way and who could blame the dragon for requesting a quick end when it was hurt, maimed, exhausted, and free game for any carnivore in the area? What else should one expect when an injured, exhausted, and _magnificent_ creature is denied the peaceful death for which it is pleading? Why would _anyone_ even consider that releasing it would be anything short of insane?

Pinned under the dragon's paw, claws straddling his slender neck and digging into his shoulders, Hiccup couldn't help but feel pity for the Night Fury. If a hunter would go to such great lengths to finish off a wounded animal, how much more would it be wrong to allow this poor dragon to suffer? What was seemingly an act of mercy only a moment ago turned out to be an unforgivable offense. As he looked up at that baleful stare, Hiccup only wished he could find his voice to express his regret and sorrow before dying, even though it surely wouldn't understand him.

The dragon reared its head back and opened its mouth wide. Hiccup's curiosity was always greater than any other driving force in his life. He couldn't help but examine the dragon's mouth with awe. His entire head could fit between those rows of teeth...

 _Is not my greatest failure in life the one that brings death?_

A hard blast of hot air on his neck snapped Hiccup out of his trance. He looked over to see his dragon pouring out waves of concern and regret. That was the past. Things have changed. What could have been, wasn't. No matter how asinine his reasoning seemed at that time, a good outcome justifies whatever led to the decision.

Hiccup glared at his father. "I cut him loose and he had _every_ right to be pissed, but this was before we got to know each other. Before we learned to trust each other, there was no... no... connection... no... bond."

Hiccup struggled to find the words. "That first day, there was so much... confusion and animosity - from _both_ of us. So, I got some scars to remind me that good things can come from seemingly stupid decisions. And the scars are even shaped like tears, as you said, to remind me of how sad it would have been if either Toothless or I didn't listen to that nagging voice of compassion."

Hiccup smiled at his frowning father.

 _Yes, voice of compassion. I think I like that one._

Stoick stared at his son. "You were lucky. Your foolishness will get you killed someday."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory.

"My foolishness gave me a friend for life and ended a 300-year-old war!"

"You can't _always_ count on being so lucky."

"But I _can_ always count on Toothless to be there when my luck runs out!"

Toothless barked his support and blew a puff of air into Hiccup's hair, watching it dance around. Hiccup chuckled and reached a hand up to brush the strands out of his eyes.

"Anyway," he continued, desperate to change the subject, "what I wanted to show you is on the _other_ side of that paper. This is from when you first introduced Skullcrusher to Berk."

Stoick decided to let that go and turned the paper around. "I don't recall Skullcrusher looking so regal and Skuf had his arms around the dragon's maw, but it's a nice drawing. What does this have to do with anything?"

Hiccup sat up straight and proud. "I was blindfolded while I drew that!"

Stoick raised an eyebrow. "You drew this… without sight?"

Hiccup grinned. "I had sight. I could see the paper - through Toothless' eyes!"

Stoick's eyes jerked over to the dragon's, who just calmly blinked at him. "You mean... your dragon-"

"His name is _Toothless_."

Stoick frowned at the interruption.

"It matters to me, Chief," Hiccup said quietly.

Stoick fixed Hiccup with an impassive stare. "So he could tell you what he saw... or where to move the pen?"

Hiccup thumped the back of his head against his dragon's shoulder and let the matter go with a sigh. _How long until he shows even a_ little _respect for the very dragon that saved every silly warrior the Red Death would have flattened and scorched?_

"Sorta. It was still me drawing from my own memory, but Toothless simply showed me the paper as I drew. I saw what _he_ saw through _his_ eyes. I could see my shoulder from Toothless' vantage point, the paper, the pen in my hand. It's... strange... and amazing! It's so weird, too. It isn't necessarily more crisp, but brighter and more vivid… like there's more to see than what _we_ can see if that makes sense. Wherever I drew with the pen, I think I could see some sort of... ummmm... silver outlining? No, aura. Ummm, yeah. Different."

Stoick maintained his namesake.

"Do you think you're caught up to Skuf or Tofa?"

Hiccup gave a quick shake of his head.

"Nah, I still have a ways to go before I get to _that_ level. But Dad, I can see through Toothless' eyes!" Hiccup stood up and started to wave his arms animatedly in excitement, which Toothless chose to interpret as an open invitation to retract his teeth and gnaw on one of those arms. "Do you know what this means?! When we fly at night, he has _amazing_ night vision. He can show me _everything_ he sees! I can be more efficient with night patrols. I can make a flap for my flying helmet that protects my eyes from the stinging, cold winds and see through Toothless. He has, like, three sets of eyelids that keep him protected and... and... Gods! Just _think_ of the _possibilities_!"

Stoick's impassive expression suddenly lightened. He stood up and smiled at his son.

"I'm going to get the fire stoked and put on some tea. Come join me."

Without waiting for a response, the chief swiftly stood up, whirled around, and strode out of the room with his bearskin cape swaying in his wake.

Hiccup slumped over his dragon's snout. "Bud? Eat me. Please."

########

* * *

########

Stoick grabbed the fire hook and shifted over to the open hearth at the center of the main room. He scraped the layer of cooled, gray ashes aside to reveal the black coals, still faintly glowing from when he banked them. Hiccup joined him and helped to build a log cabin from the firewood. They worked in a complete silence that was almost comforting for both parties. For a short while.

As the flickering flames started to lap at the newly-formed structure to set shadows dancing erratically on the walls, Stoick finally broke the silence.

"Skuf has been busy in the past couple weeks."

Hiccup spoke casually while gathering some tea leaves into a cloth. "So I've heard. He and Skullcrusher train to the point of exhaustion. That dragon is making a lot of progress, though, in regaining strength and stamina in his wings. And Tofa has taught us riders a lot about working with Terrible Terrors, too. I got Dart and Flit to track down specific people in the village to deliver messages using Tofa's new techniques."

Stoick frowned inwardly. The boy was only stalling and they both knew it, but Stoick allowed it. He shifted over to a table next to the hearth to fill the kettle from a large water pitcher, which he hung on a bar over the fire. Hiccup folded up the tea cloth, tied it shut with a piece of twine, and tossed it to his father, who dropped it into the kettle.

"You know that's not what I'm getting at, son." Stoick looked down at Hiccup out of the corner of his eye. "We need to talk about this. We've kept this secret about dragons among us for far too long."

The Hooligan council could see it coming even before Skuf arrived on Berk and shared his information. With the cease of dragon raids, many Vikings have started becoming more aggressive in seeking out the scaly beasts on their own, as if to express how offended they were that the dragons didn't come to raid them anymore.

Some tribes would go and seek out islands where dragons were nested and hunt them for meat, scales, and hides. Others would capture them and sell them or use them in gladiator arenas. It was only a matter of time before multiple tribes would start organizing together to try to find a way to domesticate or control them. That time had come and Dagur was at the center of it all.

The predominant theories on how to train a dragon ranged from plausible to downright silly. Some Vikings learned about the location of "Dragon Island", where the Red Death was killed, searching for eggs to raise their own trained Red Death. The island was much easier to find without the strange fog, though navigation around there by boat was still treacherous. Nobody on Berk told the story of the Red Death's mind control, but that didn't stop people from seeing such a large carcass and saying, "I want my own one of those, but not so dead and rotten!"

Another tactic for controlling dragons, which was certainly underway, but years from seeing any potential success, was to steal dragon eggs or newly hatched dragons and raise them by the tribe in hopes they could be trained and made loyal to the dragon handlers. Skuf's information confirmed that the Outcast tribe was working on doing just that. His unique ability to hear the unspoken words allowed him to get information he could be confident to be accurate by snooping on conversations between high-level Vikings and analyzing their emotional hum - that is, discern how their spoken words compared to how they really felt. A lie can reveal more information than any true statement if it is known to be a lie.

Between Skuf's information and gossip from traders and other visitors in the past year, the Hooligan council has come to realize that many tribes believe that Berk has figured it all out. They did not realize the error of trying to keep this secret while allowing their riders to fly around to be occasionally spotted by seabound merchants, traders, and fishers. Now, rumors, being what they are, have flown faster than a Night Fury and shifted with every tongue that passes them on, telling of an island where people have mystical mind-control powers over dragons and can tame them to build a dragon army or use them as beasts of burden to give them an edge in trading and warfare.

One of the more interesting tales is that dragons have taken control of Berk. All the Vikings on the island are mindless slaves to the dragons. Trader Johann, whose ship was once saved from wild dragons by the riders, had rolled his eyes and said, "Ya, Berk has become quite the Viking nest, eh? Let's hope dragons from other islands don't steal our babies and raise them as their warriors."

Hiccup placed the lid on top of the kettle as it heated over the fire and let out a long sigh.

"It sickens me, Dad. Dragon's aren't just a source of power to control. I mean, dammit! They're not dogs or horses! They're living, intelligent creatures! They're… people!

Hiccup was trying to divert the conversation and he knew it. Stoick bit down on the urge to shout him back on topic. He needed his son's expert dragon knowledge that made the old book of dragons rubbish. He also needed the cooperation of his son's dragon. Besides, it didn't take too many shouting matches, ending with Hiccup flying to gods-know-where for a few days, to learn a little patience when dealing with his strange son.

Stoick stooped his shoulders. "I know. I know. I may not go around hugging every dragon I see, but I know. But you cannot make peace with a man who so desperately wants war. Dagur thinks we control dragons. We know better, but he won't be persuaded. He wants that power for himself. You've heard what Skuf and trader Johann told us. That stunt with the Outcast ship bought _some_ time with the confusion it caused, but they are assembling their fleets. Dagur is fixed on us again. Too many stories from ships passing by of dragons with riders. These sharks have scented blood and nothing will distract them. It's too late to try to cover anything up.

"The usuals have joined Dagur - Outcast, Lava Louts, Murderous tribe, Hystic, and Thunderhead. Big Bertha from the Bog-Burglars has been asking too many questions about dragons and controlling them and the Meatheads would jump at a promise of taking part of the dragon army spoils."

Hiccup gave a wry smile as he looked up at his father. "I guess ending the dragon war wasn't the greatest thing after all, eh? With the pressure of that off for almost two years, people have been able to really focus on bashing each other's heads in. They hear that someone gives a dragon a fish instead of an ax and jump to stupid conclusions."

He rolled his eyes with deflated sarcasm. "Yay, Vikings. We kill stuff because we can."

Stoick started pacing. He always paces when he's thinking things through and Hiccup has learned to grimace in anticipation of what comes out of his father when he paces.

"You will never escape greed, hatred, and corruption, son. It will always find its way into places of power, at all times, no matter where you go. Now listen, even though they are self-willed, we now have seven dragons with riders on Berk - not including something like twenty of those tiny Terror buggers. Dagur's forces alone are at least thrice ours and he is gaining allies. But if we see the attack coming, we could-"

Hiccup chafed to cut in. "We can't just _use_ our few dragons like that! Even if they could set fire to some of the ships, they would get shot down! And this spectacle would only give Dagur more leverage to gain more allies who want to control the dragons."

"I know!" Stoick bellowed, towering menacingly over Hiccup. The light from the fire behind him highlighted the hairs on his arms and fur cape, casting an orange glow around him. The boy always had an annoying habit of interrupting all the time. Stoick took a deep breath and backed off, turning to the fire. More quietly, he continued.

"I know, son. But you were telling me about the effects Skuf and Tofa have on dragons – Tofa especially. You told me about how your dragon-"

"You mean _Toothless."_

Stoick scowled. _You know what I mean._

Continuing, he said, "It's like what you said about your dragon telling Tofa about how he bit your leg. It doesn't just detect her emotions. It's _controlled_ by her."

"She never _controlled_ Toothless, Dad! And will you stop referring to _him_ as _it_?! He just… gets excited by her giddy curiosity and she happens to be able to hear him.

Stoick gave his son a flat stare, but said nothing. Hiccup sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead. "I have a _really_ bad feeling where this is going."

Stoick turned to his son and bridled his head. "A chief protects his _people_ , son! _Everything_ else is secondary. Nothing else matters when _my_ people are in danger!"

Hiccup let out a long breath and started nervously drumming his fingers on the hearth.

Lowering his voice, Stoick continued, "I've already talked to Skuf about this. I want to do some tests with your dragon-"

"And by ' _your dragon'_ , I assume you mean-"

"Enough! Now, if a hundred ships, loaded with warriors, may be launched at us, it would help to know a little more about the dragons - what we can expect from them, how many may help us if needed. I want to have Skuf and Tofa do some simple tests with your dragon-"

"Toothless!"

"HICCUP!" Stoick bellowed. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling fire. When it was obvious his son was holding his peace, Stoick continued. "Just some simple tests... See if Skuf or Tofa could make him do something he normally wouldn't-"

Hiccup jerked back and stared at his father in disbelief.

"Nothing harmful," Stoick quickly threw in. "Maybe have them try to force him to sit when you command him to stand... stuff like that."

Hiccup flushed. He sucked in a noisy breath of air between clenched teeth as he tried to find his tongue. "I... this... you're trying to make Skuf into another Red Death! How are you any different than Dagur if you want to _control_ the dragons?!"

Stoick was pacing again as Hiccup spoke. He struck a support beam hard in frustration with the bottom of his fist. The entire house seemed to rattle.

"The difference is that I am protecting MY people and Dagur is attacking MY people! Don't complicate things, boy. If HE attacks US, then I will use whatever resources are available to defend MY people."

Hiccup threw his hands up in exasperation. "So that's what dragons are to you?! _Resources_ to be _used_?!" His voice broke on that last word.

Stoick glowered at his son. "Not just dragons, boy. Our _fellow Vikings_ would fight to defend Berk! Would you fight for your home or just cower in a corner? Don't tell me my own _son_ would just flee with his tail tucked between his legs! I did _not_ raise a spineless coward!"

Hiccup bristled at this and opened his mouth, but Stoick pressed on.

"You say you want dragons to be treated as equals? _Prove_ it! They can fight with equal determination to defend the home we _all_ share!"

Hiccup didn't know what to say. He recognized he was being naive, but he just couldn't bring himself to envision dragons and the Hooligans doing anything other than enjoying the happy moments in life together - flying, fishing, sleeping… the like.

Looking down in dejection, he kicked the hearth.

"OW!"

The stone hearth defeated his bare toes in an impressive display of dominance. Hopping over to a nearby chair, he cradled his hurt foot in his hands. Stoick grabbed some mugs, poured the now boiling tea from the kettle, handed one to Hiccup, and found a chair for himself.

Over the years, Hiccup had learned tact in talking with his father. Don't push anything too hard. When he starts to shout and stress his words, back off, let it simmer, and poke at the subject from different angles. Just like what he was learning with sword fighting: if you can't win with the direct approach by overpowering someone, wear him out. Dance around and whittle him down until he defeats himself.

"Listen, Dad," Hiccup began again. "The best way to win a war is to prevent it, right? Maybe we can settle this with words instead of swords. Let's call for a Thing-"

"And say _WHAT_?" Stoick cut in. "Do we sit down in front of all our neighboring tribes and say, 'Yes, we ride dragons, no you can't have them, get your own'?"

Hiccup gave a wry smile. "Well, in those _exact_ words… Yes. That's _precisely_ what I had in mind."

Stoick raised a disapproving eyebrow, but Hiccup pressed on.

"You told me why Viking tribes either encourage or require every person to carry a weapon at all times. Weapons represent power and power should not be concentrated to only a few people. Power should be distributed. Select groups or individuals can have _more_ of it, but everyone should have _some_ of it. That's why you're the chief, but you still have the council for making decisions. That's why the entire village votes to add council members and can vote to remove them, too, if they're sufficiently unified. This is something you taught me, right?"

Stoick nodded slowly.

"Well, _maybe_ we can show them that dragons are more than just a source of power to be controlled, but even if we can't, then fine. We'll beat them at their own game. Encourage them to allow us to 'spread the power' by teaching them how to befriend dragons. They will _never_ get the results they want through coercion or beating dragons into submission, I can promise you that! Trying to tame a dragon by force rails against every fiber of the natural world. If these other tribes want dragons as allies, they will be forced to respect them. We could encourage peace among our neighbors _and_ between dragons and Vikings by doing what we - well, _I_ , at least - _should_ have done all along. Train Vikings to live peacefully with dragons."

Stoick asked, "You mean teach Vikings how to _train dragons_?"

Hiccup shrugged a shoulder dismissively. "Nah, the other way around. Toothless trained me more than anything else. He taught me to see dragons differently. He trained me in making peace with dragons. _That's_ how I went from nothing to 'usurper of Astrid's throne' in dragon training. I bamboozled you all with what Toothless taught me. Not a single drop of dragon blood spilled and everyone thought I was Thor himself! If we go on missions to train our allies to befriend dragons by earning their trust instead of killing them, then we will generate goodwill towards us _and_ save some dragons from the ax."

Stoick halted his pacing and stared into the fire, deep in thought. Hiccup felt like he was pressing for a finishing strike against a staggering opponent. "And no matter who's on the back of a dragon, do you really think they would attack the very people who saved them from the Red Death? We've suspected, but Skuf and Tofa confirmed by acting as translators, that the Red Death's mind snare was far worse than any death. We saved them from _that_ and they _know it_."

Stoick combed his beard with his index finger in thought. "A Thing would be a bad idea, trust me, son. Dagur would be there, along with several other influential people who just want power. Not to mention there would be only Vikings who have seen nothing but death and destruction from dragons."

Hiccup's optimism was unphased. "I changed _your_ mind, didn't I? I can change theirs!"

Stoick slowly shook his head. "No, son. Nothing you said or did is what changed my mind."

Hiccup opened his mouth to object, but Stoick cut him off. "You know dragons and I respect that, son, but _**I**_ know Vikings and you would do well to heed my advice."

Hiccup gaped at his father. "But… when I showed you guys in the Kill Ring that Hookfang could be friendly-."

"You tried to change my mind with words and you failed miserably. You almost got yourself killed. I see my own error now, in hindsight, but words will not work against these Vikings. You changed my mind when I saw for myself that I _should_ have listened to you. When I saw a fire-breathing _mountain_ staring me down and I realized I was dead meat. _That_ was when I changed my mind. Don't think that you accomplished _anything_ in the kill ring with that Monstrous Nightmare."

"His name is Hookfang!"

Stoick waved it off dismissively.

Hiccup sighed and rolled his eyes. "Ok, then maybe not a Thing. Maybe just independent visits to tribes we know are friendly. I'm not sure we can sway any Meatheads, but maybe the Bog-Burglars? Being so far South, they haven't been involved in this dragon war nearly as much as the rest of us. If we can sway them, maybe find some dragons that would like to bond with some of them... ya know, Hookfang, Stormfly, Meatlug and Barf'n'Belch bonded with us straight out of their cages. I know I could persuade Camicazi - that'd be a start. It would be... _something_!"

Stoick set his mug down, got up, and started pacing in silence.

"C'mon, Dad," Hiccup encouraged. "Just talk to the council about it and we'll see what they say."

"I'll talk to them. If they approve, I'll give you a shot with Camicazi."

Hiccup's face brightened, but Stoick pointed a finger at him. "We would have to be cautious. No sticking your head in the dragon's mouth."

The boy grinned and opened his mouth to say something about how surprisingly enjoyable and relaxing it is when his dragon gnaws on his temples with toothless gums - minus the slobber - but Stoick cut him off.

"You know what I mean!"

Hiccup gave a quick nod, but Stoick furrowed his eyebrows and glared at Hiccup. "I mean it! The way you do things is _reckless_ and I will not risk my son like that. Your first attempt at bringing peace between dragons and Vikings, in the kill ring with the Monstrous Nightmare-"

"His name is Hookfmmnnngh!"

Stoick put a hand over his son's mouth.

"You got _lucky_. Don't deny it. If you have to rely on luck again, you will come out missing more limbs than Gobber. If we decide to let you do this, it will be under _my_ supervision. I will be in control. You will never put yourself or your dragon at a disadvantage and you will obey my instructions without question. Do you understand?"

Hiccup looked down at his still throbbing toes he was holding in his hand. "Yes, I understand." Then, he brightened. "But this could really be a start to avoiding any war, to peace between Vikings and dragons everywhere!"

"We'll see. We'll see. The only promise I can make is that I'll bring this up to the council tomorrow. But we will still prepare for a war that is likely to come. Even if we get all of Bog-Burglars to love dragons overnight, we still have a formidable foe that will not be persuaded. Dagur's war is a power grab; he cares nothing for the dragons, only for power under his control. I won't let optimism blind me. We still need to learn about what Skuf and Tofa can do with dragons. What can our enemies potentially do to manipulate dragons? Can we get the dragons on the safe islands to fight with us? Can some sadistic dragon whisperer make _them_ attack _us_? We need to investigate this."

Hiccup slowly shook his head. "I don't like it. It... I can't... Toothless won't... it scares me."

Stoick lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"Son, listen to me."

The chief waited until his son lifted his head to meet his gaze.

"If I could snap my fingers and make the world as I see fit... if I had the power to choose... there would be no Dagur. There would be no impending war. There would be no fire, no blood, no death. I would raise my son in a time of peace. I have seen enough death and loss for the both of us. That is why having all these dragons on our surrounding islands is actually a boon."

Hiccup idly nodded at that, but then froze as his face paled. "Wait, what? I need to know, Dad. It was the council that decided to leave our surrounding islands for the dragons from the Red Death's nest, right?"

Stoick nodded, eyes still fixed on the flames. "We saw you riders flying around with some of the dragons like... like you were _dancing_ with the beasts. For the past 300 years, it was easy to understand dragons. They attack us, we defend ourselves. Child's play. But without the Red Death's mind control, what makes them tick? Nobody knows.

"However, the council and I decided we felt safe enough with these dragons nearby since they have proven to be peaceful and respectful towards us and we respect them right back by giving them a wide berth. We decided that if they are going to be friendly towards our riders, then they would be friendly towards the rest of us - as long as we leave them alone on their islands. And if we are surrounded by dragons who are friendly towards us-"

Hiccup dropped his foot. He needed both hands to keep his mug from falling to the floor as he finished his father's sentence.

"Then when our enemies attack, the dragons could fall on the sword in our stead."

Hiccup closed his eyes. He didn't need to see his father gently nodding next to him.

He snapped his eyes open, looking towards the stairs to his room, and called out, "Toothless!" Then, turning to his father, as if an afterthought, saw a subtle nod. "Could you come here, Bud?"

A grunt answered him, followed by the soft shuffling of heavy feet. Through the dark shadows slid an even darker shadow. It sat down next to Hiccup, on the far side from Stoick, and put its head in its rider's lap. Hiccup draped an arm over the dragon's neck.

"Dad, the dragons on our islands will follow their riders because they protect those they love. However, those on the nearby islands will not take part in your war.

" _My_ war?! Why you listen here-"

Anything else Stoick had to say was cut off by a loud, sharp roar. Stoick scowled. Hiccup softly spoke in the following silence.

"I would give my life to protect Toothless. I would sooner cross swords with an enemy, knowing I am terribly outmatched, than ask Toothless to fight for me."

The dragon whined plaintively and bumped Hiccup's ribs with its nose.

Hiccup dryly added with a grin, "Although, Toothless would probably just shove me out of the way and fight in my stead anyway. _That_ is why we need to win our allies to dragons."

The chief decided to allow that slap in the face to go now that he got his son calmed down. "Hiccup, would your dragon-"

" _Toothless_!"

"Hiccup!"

"Dad."

"Gods!"

"RAAAWRAAARAAAARRRR!"

Even the Night Fury felt obliged to speak its mind. Stoick looked up to silently pray to Odin for patience. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hiccup press his forehead into his dragon's.

"Fine," Stoick conceded. "Would _Toothless_ fight by your side if we had to fight for our survival?"

The dragon stared at Stoick as it poked its nose into Hiccup's shoulder. The rider slowly said, "If you're asking whether I would fight to protect Berk, then yes. Of course."

Stoick rolled his eyes. "I mean what about your dragon. Where do his loyalties lie?"

Hiccup took an unhurried sip, emptying his mug, and reached forward to set it down on the hearth.

"Yes, Toothless would fight with me."

Stoick looked over the scene and chewed on his lip. "You know I don't want to control any dragons."

His tone made it sound more like a question than a statement. Hiccup slowly nodded.

Stoick took a deep breath and said, "But other people _do_ want to control them and we don't know if a dragon whisperer could do just that. I only want to test the waters. _Can_ they be controlled? Can we do anything to stop Dagur _if_ he gets another dragon whisperer like Skuf or Tofa? They're already raising dragons from the egg. Even if they started last year, it would probably take at least... well, I have no clue, but probably more than a few years to raise a dragon to maturity. This idea of dragon whisperers even _existing_ is a new thing. New things need to be investigated for potential threats in case they're used against us."

Hiccup peeled his face from his dragon to look over at his father. "Will I have the council's backing to train out allies to befriend dragons?"

"Son, answer my question. Do I have the cooperation of you and your dra-... Toothless?"

Hiccup and his dragon groaned in unison. The dragon took a step forward to place its head between Stoick and his son.

"Tit for tat, Dad. Toothless needs to know. You're asking for his cooperation. You have never known what it is like to have your mind controlled by another and you will never understand. You're asking Toothless to encourage Skuf and Tofa to try to use their abilities to control him and that absolutely terrifies him on principle alone. What are _you_ willing to do for _him_? You have a lot of influence in the Council. Both of us agree that playing dragon ambassador will accomplish more for both species."

Stoick stared at the duo for a long time. The dying flames danced in the dragon's large eyes.

"I'll talk to the council and see what they have to say."

Hiccup and his dragon huffed in unison. "Then I'll talk to _Toothless_ and see what _he_ has to say."

"I'll lean on them to let you do your dragon ambassador thing."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Well, consider me convinced. I'll also _lean_ on Toothless to cooperate with you."

Stoick tossed a log on the fire with much more force than necessary, sending up a cloud of sparks. "Fine! I'll threaten to make them help Fishlegs write his new dragon book. You'll get your shot with Camicazi, but it better be worth the effort!"

Hiccup instantly jumped to his feet with a smile on his face. He placed a hand on his dragon's head and thrust it forward. It was an invitation to touch its snout in the draconic form of a handshake.

"Then we have a deal?"

Stoick wasn't sure if he wanted to praise his son for growing some chest hair or scold him for being so manipulative. He ended up sighing as he reached to touch the dragon's snout and only flinched a _little_ at the contact this time.

"Deal."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Alright, I need someone with more talent than me to make Hiccup's crazy drawing of a buff version of him standing over a freshly killed dragon… and a bearded Toothless looking on.


	11. The Ultimate Challenger

**11 - The Ultimate Challenger**

Skuf panted as he stared at his opponent. His sword arm pulsed rapidly in tempo with his heartbeat. Sweat beaded down his face. His whole frame shook from the effort. He straightened his posture and slashed again, but his opponent still stood undaunted.

Of course, when fighting against the trunk of a sugar maple tree, one should not expect it to fall so easily, even if it was dead and rotting from the inside out.

It was part of an old routine that brought the comfort of familiarity. Back on Berserker island, he had always taken his training as a warrior very seriously. Being the best was what mattered most to him in life. He was the top of his class and it was not just because of his ability to hear the unspoken words. He conditioned his mind and body to be relaxed and ready in any environment through daily training and meditations.

This training was inspired by his close friend, Svein. He was Tofa's father and a well-respected warrior who served as chief Oswald's bodyguard.

 _Until a violent coup killed the chief and anyone who was there to defend him._

Skuf recognized his mood turning sour, so he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. It would not be wise to get all worked up during an exercise that was supposed to be calming.

It was Svein who started Skuf on this daily routine. Wake up early, go for a run around the island, find a quiet spot in the woods to meditate, and train with the sword. He would always drink enough water at night so that he would awaken early enough to have time for some individual training before breakfast with the tribe.

His runs were not too strenuous, but simply got him moving. The meditation was very straightforward. The conditioning built up by something so simple as to focus on the wind or his own breath every day for an extended period of time allowed him to exercise control over his emotions and what he projected. The ability to choose to be a calm harbor amid a raging and stormy sea was the one thing that allowed Skuf to befriend Skullcrusher in the arena over a year ago instead of getting eaten by him.

After the meditations, Skuf would find different locations to train with the sword on different types of surfaces: hard rock, sand, loose dirt, a bed of leaves, grass… any interesting surface available. Sometimes, a colleague would join him for a few days, but would soon become disinterested. However, those days when Skuf had a fellow warrior with him made the exercises infinitely more interesting as sparring against a person was much more fun than slicing thin air with the sword.

Unfortunately, Skuf did not have anybody to spar with this morning. The silly Vikings here had this firm belief that they were incapable of doing anything before eating half their weight in meat and bread. Hiccup had joined him on occasion, but he was busy preparing for his trip to visit the Bog-Burglars to try to get Camicazi to see dragons the way he does. Besides, the early morning would be toward the end of the day for Hiccup's nocturnal sleep schedule, so he would be slowed down with tiredness, heavy food, and, on rare occasion, mead.

Consequently, even on the days Hiccup joined Skuf, he rarely even bothered with sparring. However, he has taken up some running when his stump would allow it, with his Night Fury gleefully prancing alongside, encouraging him along. Nothing would stop him from joining Skuf for his meditations after his runs. Casually mentioning how it would help him hear his dragon suddenly morphed such an activity from a quaint thing to do when one is bored into the most important thing in the whole world. Toothless, though, would just silently stalk around instead of join them.

Fishlegs had joined Skuf in meditations on numerous occasions, too. His Gronckle, Meatlug, would also meditate, surprisingly enough. She would lay there by her rider, eyes half-closed, but still awake and aware. Both rider and dragon were quite interesting. They had a certain tender closeness and delight in each other's company that most of the other dragons and riders lacked. Hiccup was already starting to hear dragons to some degree and Fishlegs would certainly follow suit.

Also, to everyone's surprise, Ruffnut said she would join Skuf one of these mornings... except not today.

 _It's always some future day._

Regardless, Skuf was convinced this was the absolute best way to begin _any_ day. Who knows, maybe he'll even get Astrid to stop tossing her ax around and sit still for more than a heartbeat.

Skuf had recently finished his meditations deep in the forest. For sword training, he used a nearby tree. The sugar maple, decaying from the inside out, almost void of any limbs, stood absolutely no chance of defending itself.

He jabbed, sliced, and danced around it, even delivering some blows with his fist or elbow to an "X" he had slashed. The ground had become firm as the all-too-brief Summer slid into Fall on Berk. The leaves haven't started to turn, yet, with the exception of a few early colors, but he wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to train on firm soil and grass.

As he took a step back to catch his breath, a shadow fell over him and a large form hurled into the tree, violently knocking it down, its shallow and decayed root ball spraying chunks of dirt into the air. Skuf, shortsword still in hand, frowned at the intruder, who seemed to be rather enjoying what he had done.

The intruder was radiating an almost childlike joy at this feat. _{I win!}_

Skuf was unimpressed. _{My way of defeating an enemy is more interesting, at least.}_

Skullcrusher took a step away from his defeated maple foe and hopped up on his hind legs, crashing down on the middle of the trunk, snapping it in half.

 _{Your dance with the shiny claw is adorable.}_

Skuf smiled as he sheathed his sword and walked over to his winged friend to scratch his muzzle. _{I was using that tree. Welcome to my humble abode, you big bully. What brings you here?}_

The two of them had spent a lot of time training together, but the dragon was never interested in joining Skuf for his morning routine, so there must be some special purpose. It was fairly common for all dragons on Berk to do some flying and hunting on their own while keeping tabs on their riders whenever they weren't training together. Toothless was the only exception, spending almost every waking - and slumbering - moment with his rider.

Since Skullcrusher was here, Skuf took the opportunity to walk around him, inspecting his flank, wings, and haunches, giving a couple affectionate slaps against the scales and carapace plates. It was still hard to believe just how quickly the dragon recovered from the atrophy of his cage. Skuf pushed him hard, but he pushed himself even harder. He would fly until he could no longer remain airborne, run until he collapsed, rest, catch as much food as he could stuff in his belly, rest, then repeat the next day.

That first, short flight from Berserker island was a real eye-opener. The dragon made it a couple leagues to the incoming Outcast vessel, but only by the skin of his teeth. He barely had the strength in his legs to scamper back onto the deck after splashing in the water to rinse off the grime and dried blood Skuf had loosened.

Now, though, Skullcrusher truly looked formidable. Large muscles shifted as he swayed on his legs and lifted a wing to allow his rider to pass underneath in his circuit. In the air, he now has the strength in flight to keep up with the rest of the dragons. For what he lacked in raw speed and climbing rate, he could lock his massive wings to catch the most gentle breeze and cover great distances without rest. On the ground, he could run without ceasing and topple anything that stands in his way.

The dragon's confidence strengthened along with his body. He would often follow his rider around the village, sniffing at people along the way. He had a gentle and kind heart beneath that hardened carapace, but it was always so funny to watch the wary Vikings jump at a friendly prod of the dragon's snout. There was just _something_ about his appearance - the horns, the overbite, the set of his features - that gave him the perpetual expression of one contemplating the most entertaining way to dismember someone.

In fact, as if to prove this point, it was only a couple days ago that Skullcrusher saw a couple large Vikings and a harnessed yak all working in tandem to drag a bundle of large logs to the mill. They were overburdened, though, and struggled as the logs dug into the grass. Skullcrusher simply shoved his way in, used his teeth to grab the ropes the Vikings were using to haul the load, and started to pull it all by himself. Of course, the yak was scared senseless and tried to run away, but ended up getting dragged along by the harness that was tied to the load.

Needless to say, delicacy was not the dragon's specialty.

As Skuf finished his circuit and came back around to the horned head, Skullcrusher took a step back and looked at his rider, as if sizing him up. _{I want to fight.}_

The Viking put up his fists and lowered his stance mockingly. Skullcrusher snorted.

 _{Not with you, Dragon Whisperer, and you know that. I'm not Toothless. I'm not a kitten. Even play-fighting is risky. You land-striders are very squishy. I don't want to accidentally bite you or crush you with my weight should you stumble and take a hit.}_

Skuf could see images from the dragon of all the ways he could accidentally kill someone if he tried to playfully wrestle a Viking the way Toothless often did. It all ended with flattened bodies, torn limbs, and shattered bones. While many people on Berk have seen how Hiccup and Toothless like to wrestle with each other, it's mostly "their unique thing." Toothless would sometimes play with the other riders and has it down to an art form how to chase someone while making it look like it's a close call or tackle them without actually hurting them.

However, most other dragons never felt comfortable roughhousing in quite that manner with their riders and for good reason. Imagine accidentally running into one of the large spikes adorning the head of a Deadly Nadder. What would happen if a Monstrous Nightmare took a playful swipe with those very sharp claws and his target doesn't actually dodge in time?

Skuf started to playfully punch Skullcrusher along the sides of his jaw, in front of his recessed eyes. Of course, the dragon didn't even feel the blows. _{Don't worry about that, Skullcrusher. We'll find you a bear somewhere down South. You can even give it time to react before you plummet onto its back from the sky this time.}_

He thought back to the last time he saw Skullcrusher dive down on a bear. The beast didn't even hear or see the dragon coming. Then, suddenly, it was flattened to the ground with claws raking its back and teeth tearing its neck to shreds. While it was quite the macabre sight, Skuf couldn't help but stare in awe at such a display of raw fury and power.

Skullcrusher shoved his rider to the side with his snout. _{No, I want to fight prey.}_ He projected memories of his arena matches on Berserker Island. They were the only interesting part of his life at that time as such fights signaled a temporary pause in his starvation and boredom in his cage. _{I know I shouldn't be thinking of this, but I miss the fights in my old cage before I came to live here.}_

Skuf smiled at his friend. _{I'm sure if you fly back to your former captors and ask them real nice, they'll put you back in that cage and let you fight prey every now and then.}_

Skullcrusher reared and huffed in annoyance. _{That's not what I meant and you know it!}_

Skuf started stretching, reaching his fingertips towards the sky. He slowly brought his arms down, stretching them out to the sides, flexing the wrists in circles as he did so.

 _{I know; You could tell I wasn't really serious about that.}_

A hard blast of hot was the dragon's only answer.

Skuf continued as he reached for his toes. _{I have anticipated this would come up. I have just the opponent for you. I'll finish my workout by running back to the village and eat, then we can saddle up and fly out.}_

 _{Who is this new opponent?}_

 _{I'll tell you when we get there.}_

Skullcrusher nuzzled his rider's shoulder and crooned. Skuf returned the friendly gesture by grabbing one of the horns that jut out of the side of his head, shaking it back and forth. The dragon took a step back and turned to the side, bouncing forward once before taking off into the sky.

Never one to pass up an opportunity, Skuf finished his sword training while balancing on the trunk of Skullcrusher's Maple victim. He had never done that before and enjoyed the new challenge of trying to keep his balance during his thrusts, slashes, dashes, and punches.

After getting his fill of swinging his blade through the air, he gathered his coat and made the trot back to town to eat up at the mead hall and saddle up at the training arena, which was formerly the dragon arena called the "Kill Ring". This location now served as a place for practicing sword fighting when it wasn't used for the dragons to train in various activities. What used to be cages dug right into the foundation of stone now served as storage that held various equipment for the dragon riders.

Skuf hauled out his dragon's saddle, which was designed by Hiccup and Gobber to be a simple seat that sits on top of the dragon. He held one end of the wide leather strap and tossed the seat on top of Skullcrusher. The other end of the strap slid down the other side so Skuff could secure it under the belly. WIth the saddle secure, he vaulted up the side of Skullcrusher's neck to the seat by grabbing onto a large metal ring that connected the saddle to the mounting strap. A leg hooked over the wing to push himself up high enough to grab the seat handle and haul himself the rest of the way up.

Skullcrusher picked his belly up off the ground and started to walk to the edge of the cliff. From his elevated perch, Skuf scanned over the village. A certain Monstrous Nightmare braced himself against the side of a house and scratched at a closed window shutter with his wing claws. When it opened, he lunged his head in, fished out Snotlout by his coat, and expertly flipped the rider up into position. The two flew away with Snotlout yelling "Bad dragon! Hookfaaaang!"

Up on a hill, Gothi hung some bundles of herbs on a lattice structure to dry, aided by her ever-present and nimble-clawed Terrible Terror, Nose. That old lady held a closely guarded secret that only the dragons and dragon whisperers would ever know. She, too, has been a dragon whisperer for the past couple decades. She has always kept it a secret from the Vikings for reasons she never cared to share. However, It's clear Hiccup has developed a suspicion that there was something special about Gothi and the dragons ever since he killed the Red Death.

If he had any doubts, they were blown out of the water only a few days ago. Stoick had somehow gotten it stuck in his head that dragon whisperers were miniature Red Deaths that could control a dragon's mind. The chief was conjuring scenarios in his head of enemy tribes with dragon whisperers coercing dragons to accept riders to build up an army to attack Berk. When Hiccup, Toothless, and Skuf found some seclusion to test this theory, Gothi actually joined them - at the Night Fury's own insistence. With the bug planted in his mind, he just had to know if a human could control him. Skuf, Tofa, and Gothi all tried their best to control Toothless by trying to make him stand when he's sitting and other silly tests like that.

Through it all, Skuf learned a lot about forcefully projecting raw sensations like pleasure and pain to influence a dragon. He learned that, for example, if he drew close enough, he could knock a dragon unconscious like when someone scratches them in _just_ the right spot under the chin. However, for all his and Gothi's efforts, they had no more dominance over the dragon's mind than a charismatic speaker over a crowd. They could trigger certain knee-jerk reactions, but that was it. They could try to persuade the dragon and apply something like peer pressure, but they couldn't actually control him. Needless to say, both Toothless and Hiccup were ecstatic.

Skuf's breath caught in his throat as he flailed to steady himself in the sudden weightlessness. Skullcrusher had decided to snap his rider out of his daydreaming with a leisurely dive off the edge of the cliff and even had the gall to chortle at the reaction. Skuf grinned as his dragon spread his wings to ascend again and affectionately thumped his carapace plates. Somewhere behind them, Toothless roared his farewell as he and Hiccup strolled down the steps of the great hall on their way to bed. Up above, Snotlout wrestled with the horns on his dragon's head to try to get him to fly back to land and to stop lighting himself on fire. Both rider and dragon were trying to get the other to respect him in the absolute worst and most ineffective way possible.

Skuf directed his dragon Southeast to an island called Toothless Tackle, which they occasionally visited to hunt. Apparently, a certain Night Fury must have been feeling restless when Hiccup added this to his own map of all the islands in the area... or maybe Hiccup had some salty comment regarding his dragon. It was a dozen leagues away from Berk, well beyond the so-called "dragon safe islands" that many of the Red Death refugees ended up inhabiting. Apparently, they all initially tried cramming themselves onto Berk, but dragons and Vikings both needed space, so the surrounding islands were the best compromise.

The sun was now climbing over the horizon and, without any responsibilities until noon, the dragon and rider planned on taking their time with this trip. Skullcrusher didn't ask what his rider's plans were. He knew they would get some flight training in and also find something for him to eat. He simply enjoyed the suspense of knowing his rider had a plan, but trusted him to reveal the details when he thought it was the right time.

As they approached the island, Skuf directed Skullcrusher to land on top of a lone sea stack off the coast. The top was flat rock, jutting high over the sea, with enough room around them to feel comfortable that they wouldn't fall off. After landing, Skuf slid down his dragon's neck and sat down right where he landed.

He dramatically gestured with his hand. _{Behold, Skullcrusher, I present your opponent. I assure you it will be a tough battle and I predict you will be defeated, but don't worry; you will survive.}_

Skullcrusher did not seem impressed as he slowly looked all around from the top of their sea stack. _{We went over this already. I can't fight you. Besides, if you fall off the edge, I don't trust myself to be able to catch you in time. I'm not that fast.}_

Skuf smiled at his dragon. _{Don't worry, you won't be fighting me. Your opponent is much more capable than me.}_

Skullcrusher stared at his rider. His confusion was starting to transition into irritation. _{There is nobody else here to fight.}_

Skuf made a fist and extended his index finger, poking it into his dragon's snout. _{You will be fighting yourself.}_

 _The dragon blinked in confusion as he projected_ an image of himself fighting another identical Rumblehorn with both combatants mirroring each other's moves exactly. _{How am I supposed to fight myself, you silly land-strider?}_

Skuf dropped down and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees and formed loose fists with his hands. He sat there with his back and neck straight, looking ahead towards the sea. Skullcrusher was laying down right beside him so that his head was right next to Skuf.

Skuf took in a deep breath as he instructed his dragon. _{Think back to the time you first met me. I was in the arena on Berserker Island. You were starved to the point of madness. I was supposed to be your prey and my death was supposed to serve as entertainment to the onlookers. Do you know what was unique about me that stopped you from killing me?}_

Skullcrusher didn't even take time to think about this. He had pondered it on his own often enough. _{Pity. You felt pity towards me. It knocked the breath out of me.}_

Skuf reached a hand up to pat his dragon's snout. _{There's more to it than that. It's not just what was there, but what was_ not _there. There was no panic or anger or fear. Instead, there was peace. Firefly is also unnaturally good at maintaining such a mindset and I have no doubt that allowed his success in allying himself with the dragons on his island. While Firefly developed this mental discipline as a natural consequence of surviving as a runt, I have been doing these meditations for years before we met. I firmly believe that if I had not done these, I would be dead and you would still be in that cage.}_

Skullcrusher puffed uneasily as he shifted his weight between his legs. _{Then I am very happy that you did these meditations. Is that what we are doing now?}_

 _{Yes. Settle down into a comfortable position. We will be here for quite some time. I want you to focus on your breathing and nothing else. Control every breath. That is your challenge. You can decide how fast or slow you breathe, but you must be in control of every breath. Everything must be deliberate.}_

Skullcrusher sent a silent acknowledgment to his rider. He had watched Skuf meditate on several occasions ever since he flew to Berk, so he knew the basics of what he should be doing. He took in a deep breath through his large nostrils, allowed his sides to expand out, held it for a moment, then forced all the air out.

 _{So, this is how I fight myself?}_

Skuf glanced over at his dragon. _{Yes, and I pity you – I think you don't stand a chance. Head off the ground, eyes closed. Don't fall asleep on me.}_

Time passed by. Seagulls and gannets called out. Waves crashed against the stone. Skuf made a mental note to visit this area more often. Everything here was so idyllic. Skullcrusher's breathing became shallower and more rapid, then ragged and sporodic.

Skuf thumped Skullcrusher's side. _{Are you controlling your breath?}_

Skullcrusher took a deep breath. _{Yes.}_

 _{You are now, but you weren't for a while. You lost focus on your breath and got distracted.}_

The dragon snorted in annoyance. _{So what? Why does it matter?}_

 _{It matters for two reasons. One, you asked me for a challenging opponent to fight and I can think of nobody who is more challenging to you than yourself. You are a worthy opponent since you just defeated yourself. Second, it is good training. Perhaps the day will come when you and I can convince Toothless to do this, too.}_

Skuf opened his eyes for a moment to see that Skullcrusher had suddenly raised himself up to his feet, loudly stomping around as he glared at Skuf. He was not comfortable with the direction of this conversation. Skuf, though, just continued his deep breathing with his eyes closed.

 _{Please don't kill me, Skullcrusher. If you throw a fit and knock me off this sea stack, then I would agree with your assessment that you would not be able to catch me before I fall to my death.}_

Skullcrusher continued to pace around their small sea stack, stomping his paws on the ground as he worked through his frustration. _{How can you say I defeated myself? It doesn't make sense!}_

Skuf continued his breathing as he explained. _{You made a commitment. You agreed to control your every breath. You failed. That is why you defeated yourself. Don't beat yourself up. Everyone fails. Come back here and try again, please.}_

After some more stomping around, Skuf could hear his dragon walk up and lower himself down to the ground again, his breathing gradually slowing down. Skuf continued his lesson. _{You could not control your breathing because you were worried you would lose control. The fear of failure is so often the cause, too. One mistake could make a world of difference. One instant in which you lose your focus could result in your death or the death of someone you are trying to protect. The briefest moment in which you allow your emotions to control you could cost you dearly.}_

 _Like with Svein and Oswald._

Skullcrusher huffed and chortled in that strange imitation of laughter he picked up from Toothless.

 _{I am not the only one who has been defeated, today. You just did it to yourself.}_

Skuf smiled at his friend as he took a deep breath. It was true. He allowed himself to get distracted. _{Yes, I did. It is comforting to know I am not perfect or life would be quite boring. Now that we have both tasted defeat, let us try again.}_

Skullcrusher started to take deep, deliberate breaths again. _{I don't understand what I am accomplishing here, but I will do it anyway because I trust you.}_

 _{I cannot tell you exactly what you will gain from this – aside from a fight with your most challenging opponent. I have told you what I have gained from this, but I cannot tell you what_ you _will gain. Still, I thank you for your trust.}_

The meditations continued for an indeterminable amount of time as the sun rose in the sky. At certain times, Skuf could hear Skullcrusher's breathing become ragged and rapid, followed by snorts of annoyance and stomping around, but the dragon always returned to his side to resume the meditation. At one point, Skullcrusher flew away from the sea stack to land on the nearby island with a heavy thud. He roared his frustration and knocked down trees, but returned soon afterward.

After a while, Skullcrusher maintained his steady breathing for what Skuf deemed to be long enough. Skuf opened his eyes and reached over to put a hand on the dragon's snout. _{I think we've been at this long enough. How do you feel?}_

 _{Tired.}_

Skullcrusher opened his eyes and bumped his rider – not hard enough to knock him over, but hard enough to show he was glad this was over with. He was shaking ever-so-slightly, which was not surprising. The truth that something so peaceful and seemingly simple as meditating on just breath can drain anyone never seemed intuitive.

Though the dragon didn't admit it, Skuf could tell Skullcrusher was glad to have a new challenge to overcome with how physical training has become less of a struggle. The dragon seemed to be the type who always needed some obstacle to overcome.

 _{Good!}_ Skuf nodded his approval. _{It was a hard fight, but you won in the end. I think we're ready for a much easier opponent, now. Let's go find that bear and get you fed.}_

 _{I like the way you think!}_

Skullcrusher leaped off the edge of the sea stack towards the island. After a few moments of circling around, he dove down to the ground. Even at this distance, through the foliage of the trees, the sounds of bones breaking echoed off the stone cliffs.

Sitting on the top of the sea stack all by himself, Skuf enjoyed the sights and sounds around him. He felt proud of himself. Not only did he give his dragon something to keep him out of trouble, but this could be a new exercise to help draw the riders and their dragons closer together. Getting the dragons involved would require getting more riders than just Hiccup and Fishlegs involved, though.

Skuf grinned as a thought crossed his mind. _With enough rope, even Snotlout could be made to sit still..._

The rising sun caught Skuf's attention. It was already high in the sky and, with so much food in his belly, Skullcrusher wouldn't be able to fly until mid-afternoon. He hadn't thought about that little detail until now. He had students to train with the sword today.

 _I suppose sword training will simply have to wait._


	12. Like Rider, Like Dragon

**12 - Like Rider, Like Dragon**

Back when there was snow flying on Berk, on the festive holiday of Snoggletog, little Gustav had used various bits of charred wood to cobble together a costume that looked sorta like a Night Fury. It was quite a sight to behold and even rivaled the green empty ale barrel Gronckle with the mace for a tail. When Toothless saw his likeness, he oozed all over the boy, completely flattered by such imitation. Ever since then, when the dragon was in a goofy mood, he would sometimes walk on his hind legs for a few steps, just like Gustav the Night Fury.

Even after having seen it for the hundredth time, even while saddled on said dragon's back, Hiccup would always completely lose himself in a fit of laughter.

Toothless chortled at his own antics and leaned forward to dive off the edge of the cliff, spreading his wings to soar over the harbor for a moment before rising up into the clouds. Hiccup had grown quite fond of this maneuver as there was no whiplash that he normally gets when Toothless springs up from the ground. Others call it lazy, but they haven't ridden a Night Fury that kicks like a yak and jumps like a cat.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky and illuminating the underside of the clouds in hues of red and pink. He knew the way to Bog Burglar island very well, including every island, jutting rock, or other landmarks on the way for navigation. Even without that, he knew the direction from the constellations.

Stoick had already taken off the previous day in the tribe's main trade ship. With good sailing winds to be expected, he should be about fifty leagues away and would reach the Bog Burglar island around dawn. At a casual cruising speed with a partial tailwind, Hiccup figured he should catch-up halfway through the night.

The plan was simple. Land on the boat to meet up with his father, Snotlout, Spitelout, and some others on a regular visit to their friendly neighboring tribe. Naturally, Hookfang followed his rider along. Once they arrived on the island, the dragons would either hide on the ship or go fly off and spend the time on an uninhabited island before docking while the Hooligans would do regular business with the Burglars.

Ever since Hiccup and the Bog Burglar heiress, Camicazi, were old enough to join these voyages, they had always just run off into the wilderness to get into Loki-knows-what kind of trouble. Hiccup planned on making sure that happened again, this time, which would give him an opportunity to introduce her to Toothless... in a way that doesn't send her running and screaming... or scare her into stabbing him... _and_ gets her to like his dragon...

As Gobber said to Hiccup before taking off, "No pressure at all, laddie!"

From there, well... maybe that will be the end of the dragon introductions or maybe Camicazi can help convince the rest of her tribe to accept some training on how to interact with dragons. Hiccup was certainly nipping at the bud to teach anyone who would listen.

To take his mind off the weight of their mission, he decided to train himself in hearing and projecting thoughts. By now, he could hold a conversation with any dragon he touched. Of course, he wasn't perfect at it and his brain still cramped up at how to make sense of the feeling of brown, the tone of a warm bed of coals, and even stranger things his mind would process as gracefully as Gobber could run in a foot race.

Toothless insisted his rider's projections were getting much clearer and easier to understand, though. Hiccup has spent the past several days simply sharing stories with his dragon with these projected thoughts to strengthen himself. It causes headaches at times, but both parties absolutely enjoy seeing the other's perspective during certain interactions in the past. Hiccup would come up with some sort of prompt or event and they would take turns sharing it from their own perspective. It was during such exercises, for example, that he learned the _real_ reason Toothless had coughed up a fish and made him eat it when they met in the cove for the first time. Suffice to say _one_ of them was thoroughly entertained.

"Ok, Bud, how about…" Hiccup hummed in thought. "The most terrifying moment we've experienced together while on the ground. And no Red Death! Our ever-so-graceful landing there would only be a repeat of your most terrifying moment in the air."

Hiccup couldn't see much more detail than a black blob of his dragon's head twisting to the side, obscured by the clouds, but he could feel approval of the idea. Toothless was always ecstatic to converse with his rider no matter what they talked about.

"I'll start so I can get warmed up," Hiccup said as he wiped the stinging, icy water from the cloud off of his face. "Projecting is always easier than hearing, anyway."

He leaned forward, pressing his hands against his dragon's neck, rubbing it in lazy circles. This physical contact wasn't really needed for a dragon to hear the unspoken words since they were naturally attuned to such a method of communication. Still, the added depth of connection and feeling some sort of feedback felt... fulfilling. The skin-to-scale contact was made possible thanks to Skuf's suggestion to cut the palms out of his mittens. Since Toothless always generated a lot of heat while flying, it did a nice job of keeping Hiccup warm this way.

The rider closed his eyes and took a deep breath, working on how to arrange his images, emotions, sensations, and understanding for his mount. The memory he chose to share was the day after he first approached the Night Fury with a fish as a peace offering. Even after that magical moment of drawing in the sand, Hiccup knew so little about the dragon aside from the fact it was an amazing and intelligent forgiving creature.

Feeling full of confidence in his newly-formed relationship with the offspring of lightning and death, Hiccup made a detour on the way to the cove. He wanted to recover the iron weights and hooks that were part of his bola that shot down the dragon. He was so proud when he saw the Night Fury fall. Since then, nothing has ever made him feel so ashamed of his motives.

After collecting the components, using some of the rope from the bola to tie the parts together for carrying, he started to walk back toward town, up the channel the dragon had carved in the forest floor. He stopped when he noticed something strange caught in the splintered stump of one of the broken trees the dragon had impacted when it crashed.

Dull black, leathery, and ribbed, it hung there, contemptuously decrying his most grievous offense. The hooks and iron weights dropped out of his slackened hands as he approached the object. He gingerly pulled it out of the stump, gently running his fingers over it. The flesh was surprisingly well preserved; the edges had barely begun to dry. Bones ran through the membrane, flaring at one end where they would have connected to a ball-in-socket joint. Even two days after it was torn from the dragon's tail, it still seemed so... alive.

A lump formed in Hiccup's throat. This was part of a living creature. Not just some animal, but a merciful and intelligent and fiercely curious dragon that could forgive and draw in the sand and fulfill a foolish boy's dreams. The tailfin of the dragon he maimed, clutched in his trembling hands, seemed to taunt him. It was as if the thing was crying out with its own voice in mockery.

 _You failed to kill the dragon. You refused to grant it a merciful death. Now the poor thing is stuck, enduring humiliation at your hands so you can feed it like some pet. To torture is crueler than to kill. You are worse than the most brutal Viking._

Hiccup suddenly dropped the fin from his pale hands and fell to his knees. His stomach couldn't take it. His breakfast evacuated onto the forest floor. He couldn't stand the sight of the tailfin. All he could hear was the terrified shriek when he shot the poor dragon down. After spending a few moments spitting out bile and his half-digested breakfast, he crawled back to the tail fin.

 _What do I do?_ He screamed inside his head. _What do I_ DO _?_

His oppressive guilt started to tinge with determination. Maybe this situation could be salvaged? Maybe the fin could be grafted back onto the tail? He had heard about young children who had cut off a finger or toe with an ax, but the missing appendage could sometimes be grafted to grow back into the rest of the body and function again. Maybe it would work with a dragon's tail fin, too? As far as he knew, nobody has ever healed a dragon. Then again, has anyone tried?

Feeling the press of time, he gently wrapped the membrane of the tailfin around his arm and sprinted toward the cove with reckless speed, protecting it for all he was worth whenever he tripped or stumbled.

 _This has to work,_ he kept telling himself. _It_ MUST _work._

The tailfin, though, voicing the boy's deepest insecurities, seemed to think otherwise.

 _Naive fool! You had_ everything _you ever wanted at the tip of your knife and you let it all go! You think you can reclaim that which was lost? You run quick as a rabbit, but you are drawn only to the snare. Your salvation will become your doom._

Hiccup sprinted down the winding pathway to the cove, stumbling over a rock he didn't notice. He rolled and winced as a finger took a bit too much of the impact. It would hurt for a couple days, but far worse has been dealt with. All that mattered was to quickly deliver the tailfin to the dragon safely. The sooner that happened, the sooner the torn fin would stop taunting and mocking him.

 _Run, little rabbit, run! The snare is just ahead. Do you smell the cider and carrots? Oh, what fortune!_

Winded and gasping for air, he broke through the opening into the cove. The dragon, which was drinking from the lake, started to approach him with cautious curiosity. Hiccup remembered his knife on his belt and pulled it out, tossed it to the entrance of the cove, and took a few steps forward. Just seeing the Night Fury made him smile and forget his troubles. It felt good to be here with his secret friend again. It was almost enough to make the mean tailfin shut up.

 _The rabbit sees only a feast on the trigger stick._

Almost.

The young Viking reached his free hand forward. He wanted to establish contact with the dragon before showing the tail fin clutched in his other hand. He wanted - _needed_ \- to establish trust.

The Night Fury approached, casually sniffing at his outstretched hand. It stopped suddenly, pupils constricting to narrow slits. A low growl came out as it bared its teeth in an aggressive posture.

Trying to salvage the situation, Hiccup slowly extended the hand holding the tail fin, unwrapping the black, leathery membrane. It felt awkward to remain silent as he had the previous day, when they were drawing shapes in the sand, so he spoke over the low growling, trying to be soothing and placating.

"Easy there, buddy. It's yours," he pleaded. "This belongs to you. It came from your tail. I feel so terrible that I did this to you, but we can fix this. We can graft this back onto your tail. We can fix your tail!"

Growling gave way to snarling. Hiccup's determination turned to fear. Surely, the dragon must recognize what is only an attempt to make amends, right? Right? It had seemed to be pretty smart and aware of such things.

Holding onto the tailfin didn't feel right, anymore. Hiccup set it down on the ground, but leaving it there felt wrong, too.

"C'mon, let me help you, buddy. I'll go to town and get some supplies. Ummm, some needles, sutures, braces, wraps. We can graft this back onto your tail. I'll be _right_ back!"

As Hiccup turned to walk away, something struck his shoulders hard, jarring his whole body. He sprawled out on the ground, the breath knocked out of him.

Fear turned to terror. The tailfin still lay there, ignored by the angry dragon and hapless Viking. The damned thing only continued to mock him.

 _The bait has been taken. The snare has been sprung! Die little rabbit! Die!_

"No, _please!_ " he frantically wailed. "I'm trying to help you! I want to _help_!"

The Night Fury pounced and swiped its paws, rolling the boy across the ground. Hiccup curled up and held his arms over his face, weathering the blows as he cried out to the dragon.

"Please, don't!"

THUD!

A clawed paw struck his right shoulder, tumbling him onto his side.

"Stop!"

THUD!

A bolt of lightning arced down his spine as another blow rolled him over again.

"Please!"

THUD!

"I yield!"

THUD!

"I'm sorry!"

THUD!

"I'm so sorry!"

Over and over, the dragon continued to swipe with unrestrained contempt, venting its anger. Blood started to seep into Hiccup's tunic, but the cuts were not deep.

As suddenly as it began, the barrage ceased. The dragon leaped away, clawing at a tree in furious anger, bucking and thrashing wildly, tearing off branches in its mouth and breaking them with its jaw. Hiccup could only lay there in the fetal position, ignoring the blood soaking into his torn tunic as he tried to control his sobbing breath, shouting "I'm so sorry!" between gasps for air. He spared a moment to gave a baleful stare at the dismembered tailfin.

 _Hush, little rabbit. Hush. Luck is with you. This time._

After some time, the Night Fury tired itself out, panting heavily as it glared at the Viking, its fury finally expended. Even though it was shaking from the exertion, it seethed at the tailfin. Such a small scrap of flesh to lose that robs a dragon of flight.

Feeling the anguish, guilt, and terror of the boy, the dragon was moved to compassion. It recognized the attempt at altruism no matter how much this whole situation stung him inside and out.

Through blurry, tear-streaked vision, Hiccup could see a large, dark form approach him. He could not tell for what purpose; he just shut the world out as he lay there, curled up, wheezing, still recovering from the mental shock. He could tell the dragon did not really want to kill him. Indeed, it would have been through a conscious effort to hit him without tearing his flesh to ribbons or crushing every bone in his body.

The Night Fury bent down and started to lick at the cuts under the torn fabric. It gently tugged at the boy's tunic with toothless gums until he realized its intent and took it off, allowing the dragon to lick the wounds on his back, chest, and arms. The cuts were not deep, but they spotted his entire upper body. They stung like coals under the skin, but the pain dissipated under the dragon's tongue. Soft crooning drifted from above as he slowly sat up, testing his limbs for broken bones. Amazingly, his body was intact with only cuts and bruises to show for the abuse.

The dragon took a step back to look at the Viking. Hiccup reached over to grab the tail fin. It was so close and still mocking him for being the foolish rabbit caught in a snare and Hiccup wanted to do something about it. However, the dragon growled and knocked him to the ground with the pad of its paw. Hiccup really wanted to help, but it seemed the dragon would not allow him near the tail fin.

 _What rabbit that trips a snare and survives would ever make the same mistake twice?_

In utter shock, Hiccup looked up at the Night Fury, instinctively reaching towards it. The dragon seemed to sigh as it closed its eyes and pressed its nose into the outstretched hand. Once again, he felt the close connection to the dragon as if they could peer into the other's heart.

"I'm so sorry," Hiccup softly said, hoping to reach out to the dragon in some way. "I just want to help. You don't deserve the harm I have done to you, but I want to make it better. Please... I want to help you. Let me help."

The dragon pulled back with a snort. It grabbed the tailfin in its mouth and snapped its head to the side to send it fluttering onto a large rock. At the telltale shriek of a Night Fury charging up a shot, Hiccup jumped to his feet with a shout, but a wing stopped him from moving forward. A blue bolt of fire impacted and sent little bits of bone and hide flying in all directions.

Tired, hurt, regretful, depressed, the dragon sauntered over to the lake. Dipping its tail into the cold water, it laid down to go to sleep. The message was clear. The giver has been accepted, but the gift has been rejected.

Hiccup sauntered out of the cove. When he had entered, he had such high hopes of helping the dragon. Now, he felt like the dragon just crushed his soul. His dreams of sewing the tailfin back on and watching it heal so the dragon could fly and galavant in the air were now as torn-up as those ragged bits of flesh. It was all so frustrating!

However, his chin lifted as a thought came to mind. The base of the fin where it connected to the tail was about toe to chin. The five bones acted as movable spars that swept forward and backward to fold and unfold the membrane. They must also rotate up and down, too. The leading one was the shortest, maybe armpit to fingertip, then the next was twice as long, then another little longer, a little longer still, and the last was almost as short as the first. Stretch some leather between the spars and strap the whole thing onto the tail and maybe… Yes, just maybe…

Frustration turned to inspiration, a plan, determination. Determination turned into hope. A smile crossed the boy's face as he broke out into the forest above the cove. Next time, he would not ask for permission. He would use every dirty trick he knew. He would _make_ the dragon accept his help. The dragon needed him, even if it didn't want to admit it.

First, he had a date with the forge.

Hiccup opened his eyes. His head was starting to ache from the effort of projecting so much at once. He poured his whole heart and soul into communicating every little detail he could recall and felt a little dizzy as a result. There was a moment of complete silence as Toothless flew over the clouds.

 _{I almost forgot about that incident. Now I feel like I just flew into a cliff. Thank you for that.}_

Hiccup smiled at the sarcasm pouring out of his dragon.

"Fine, next time, _you_ pick the topic - but no more fish!"

A rude snort answered the Viking's requirement. He couldn't even count how many times Toothless had shared his memory of that one day he made Hiccup eat the regurgitated fish.

"So, how'd I do, Bud? Did I project it clearly?"

 _{Much clearer than my tear-blurred vision.}_

"Dragons can't cry."

 _{Figure of speech.}_

"... Oh. I knew that. Anyway, I was aiming for drama. It took me a while to come to terms with what I had done. You sure gave me a good scare, but I smile at that memory. It helped me see you as someone who is so... human."

 _{I really just wanted to kill you that day. I don't think I understood your motive - I felt so humiliated. You just dropped my tailfin in front of me and started to walk away.}_

Hiccup grimaced, then chuckled nervously. "Yeah… didn't quite think that one through all the way."

He looked up at the darkened sky above to check their bearing. The light from the moon and stars bathed the sea of clouds below in a pale light. He always marveled at the beauty of the clouds. Whether viewed from below as the sun peeked over the horizon, or from above in the night, its majesty always took his breath away.

"Hey Toothless, that whole thing with the tailfin mocking me with the rabbit and the snare… I remember it so clearly. Was I… was I somehow hearing you in some way. Maybe you were warning me that was a bad idea?"

 _{No. You're just crazy.}_

Hiccup scoffed. "You're lucky you're so adorable. Really, though, there were certain details I shared that I didn't know. Like your feelings towards me and that tailfin. There's no way I would have known that. I'm certain I didn't make it all up, but maybe I just guessed how you would feel?"

Toothless cocked his head in thought. _{Perhaps I supplied that part as you projected the details. Its just so natural I don't even notice it. Communication can go both ways. It is a sharing of understanding between creatures. Understanding can be shared, but never taken away.}_

"Sooo... you supplied those impressions and I received them… and included them in what I projected... without even knowing it? It's like we were both talking and listening to each other at the same time..."

Toothless looked back at his rider and gave a knowing smirk.

Hiccup snickered as he idly rubbed his dragon's neck. "You are so weird, Bud."

Dragon and rider flew on in silence, lost in their own thoughts. The clouds parted to give a magnificent view of the sea. Each ripple in the water seemed to sparkle from the celestial lights. Now that Hiccup wasn't focusing all his efforts on projecting his memory, he could focus on seeing through the Night Fury's eyes. He simply leaned forward and draped his arms around his dragon's head, closing his eyes and enjoying the sight with the enhanced clarity of night vision.

After a while, he sat up and said, "Bud, you've seen stitches, right? A large gash in the skin can be sewn shut. In rare cases, entire limbs that have been cut off could be mended. I know dragons heal and mend a lot faster than people. If you had allowed me to graft that fin back onto your tail, do you think it could have worked?"

There was a long pause, filled with nothing more than the whistling of the wind in his ears, the rush of air from the dragon, and the delicate flutter of the wings as they glided on the breeze.

 _{I am glad you didn't. If it did work, I may have never realized how incomplete I am without you.}_

Hiccup leaned forward and vigorously rubbed his dragon's snout.

"Awww, you really know how to make me happy, Bud!"

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Later that night, Hiccup noticed his dragon's sensor flaps stiffen, then pulsate rhythmically, twitching here and there to briefly hold that position. Skuf had mention these weren't really ear fins, but served some other purpose - besides slapping Hiccup's face when they're flying as a sign of irritation. Hiccup had received sight, sound, and touch from his dragon, but never tried whatever sense involved those sensor lobes.

"What are you doing there, Bud? I've seen you do it before, but I never bothered to ask."

The Night fury stopped and relaxed his sensor lobes for a moment. _{I'm reaching out with my senses. All dragons can project and receive thoughts. Most dragons can barely communicate farther than a growl could be heard. My sensors greatly increase my range. Right now, I can hear Hookfang.}_

Hiccup just sat there and breathed in wonder as his dragon continued to flex his sensor flaps, vibrating them at times, then flicking them into certain positions, holding them there. Sometimes, the two larger flaps would hold still while the dragon cocked his head in concentration, but the smaller flaps would pulsate.

"Can you show me, Bud, like you did with your eyes, earlier?"

A feeling of vertigo overcame the rider as he received… Well, he wasn't quite sure _what_ he received from his dragon. It was images that had a certain sound, sounds that had a certain taste, smells that had a certain feel to them. His mind struggled to fit this sensation into a meaningful context, like when he would try to catch the clouds, but end up with only wet, cold hands. It was a strange, formless understanding of the world around him.

Quite some distance ahead, he could feel the projected thoughts of a cluster of creatures. Toothless indicated that he could discern direction and distance to some degree because those sensor lobes were fanned out around his head. One such creature he detected could be identified as Hookfang by the unique signature of his projections. Hiccup didn't understand how he knew that, he just knew. He could identify alarm in this "voice", then recognition, followed by relief and joy as Toothless identified himself to Hookfang in some wordless way. Toothless informed Hookfang that his rider was snooping on their conversation and the Monstrous Nightmare roared with excitement. The groggy Vikings on the same ship roared back at him to quiet down.

Hiccup could also feel another creature's impossible-to-his-senses signature of Stoick. Again, Hiccup just knew, somehow. There was no room for doubt. He could tell by following the hum of yet another creature, Snotlout, that he was having some sort of exchange of information with his dragon. With enough poking and prodding, Hookfang was able to wake his rider to prepare a place for the Night Fury to land.

Hiccup just sat there, dumbfounded, jaw dropped as he took it all in. After a few moments, the dragon's sensor flaps relaxed and he looked back at his rider with a big smirk. Hiccup had to grant his dragon this moment of pride in himself. What other response was there to watching one's dragon communicate with others from leagues away?

"Bud, you are... one amazing creature! Let's go say hi."

A while later, they descended down below the clouds to spot the ship. It was a large Knarr with a cabin built into the deck that spanned the entire width and most of its length. The Berk crest could be seen displayed boldly on the mainsail that propelled the ship toward its destination. The people Hiccup could see on the deck were waving at him and cleared a spot at the stern.

Toothless angled into the broad-reaching wind that blew across the stern and port of the ship to bleed off speed and altitude. After slowing to almost a hover, they angled in to make a graceful landing just inside of the railings without any sound at all.

Hiccup sat there in silence for a moment and then dramatically snapped back into reality and affectionately pat the top of his dragon's head. "Oh, we landed! How long have we been here, Bud?"

Toothless chortled at the compliment. He has always taken great pride in his grace and precision in flight.

With one well-practiced motion, Hiccup dismounted from Toothless and ran to his father, prosthetic foot clinking against the wooden deck, and jumped into his arms. After a brief embrace, Stoick let his son down and looked at him. Snotlout made a face at his cousin, but that was all.

About a year ago, when Hiccup hugged his father in public for the first time, Snotlout mocked him for that in front of half the village. Stoick had scowled, caught between embarrassment for being seen as soft and contempt for his nephew being so callous. Before anybody could say anything, Snotlout was suddenly on his back, pinned under Toothless' paw. To the bully's dismay, Hookfang simply stood off to the side, chortling at the antics. Needless to say, Snotlout refrained from any verbal insinuations after that.

"Welcome aboard, Hiccup," Stoick said.

Hiccup smiled up at his father as he slapped his thighs, working feeling back into the numb legs.

"Thanks, Dad. It really means a lot to me - and Toothless - that you're putting forth the effort to make this happen. I know it's not easy, but this mission could be the start of something big."

Then, turning to Snotlout, "I bet you're the one who suggested they make the stern of the ship the landing zone instead of the bow. Thanks! That was good thinking on your part."

Snotlout gave a crooked grin. "Yeah yeah, let's just hope this whole trip is worth it. I'm going back to sleep."

The crew of twenty Vikings dispersed and soon did likewise. Hiccup and Stoick reviewed their plans for the next day. Hiccup offered to take the night watch since this would be the midday point for the nocturnal rider and dragon. Stoick agreed, but told his son to try to get some sleep when Ack takes up his shift in a while so that Hiccup could spend more of the daylight hours interacting with the Bog-Burglars.

The rider found a basket of fish and gave it to Toothless, who greedily gobbled it up, smacking his lips in delight. After Stoick joined the others inside the cabin to sleep, Hiccup ducked into the cabin. There was one more thing he needed to check on before attending to his dragon.

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* * *

########

The soft taps of a leather boot alternated with the metallic clangs as Hiccup made his way through the cabin to access the bow of the ship. He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and smiled up at the massive form looming above.

Hookfang's maroon scales, dotted with black spots, glistened in the moonlight. Clawed talons gripped the stout railing that encircled the entire ship. The claws extending from the "wrist" of the wing's bone structure held him steady against the side of the cabin. He allowed his legs and wings to sway with the rhythm of the wave-tossed boat in an attempt to keep his body at rest.

Hiccup casually waved. "Hi, Hookfang."

The dragon gave a subtle nod, but Hiccup could tell he was feeling a little... off. "Hey sir, may I... uh, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Hiccup tentatively reached his hand, inviting the dragon to make the next move to decide if he wanted to make contact. The Monstrous Nightmare stepped down to the flooring. Although his head was lowered to Hiccup's level, he felt that familiar sense of the dragon's imposing and overwhelmingly immense size and power. Unlike most other Vikings, though, it made Hiccup feel safe rather than threatened. This dragon tried to kill him the first time they met, but since then, has always respected Hiccup, even if he tried not to show it.

Hookfang pressed his snout into Hiccup's outstretched hand. Now that the rider could hear the dragon, everything clicked into place. This was Hookfang's first time on a ship and the constant rocking was making him feel very queasy. Snotlout didn't even know because his dragon was too proud and stubborn to show any signs of his discomfort. Hookfang didn't dare take off and fly to stop his head from spinning for fear of falling into the ocean and floundering until he drowned or, worse still, would need to be rescued.

A sudden jerk pulled the snout away from Hiccup as the dragon lunged for the side of the ship and leaned over the railing to retch into the sea. Hiccup quickly grabbed a large bowl they had been using to give the dragon water, dashed into the cabin to fill it from the water barrel, and went back out and set it down for Hookfang, who was coughing out the last bits from his mouth.

As Hookfang greedily drank up the water, Hiccup said, "Toothless has had to ride a ship a few times and he used to get seasick, too. Taking some short flights every now and then seemed to help him adjust to the motion of the sea without all..." Hiccup gestured to the dragon, "...this.

The Monstrous Nightmare extended his neck, pressing his snout towards Hiccup, who reached a hand out and made contact again.

 _{Cougar says I will get used to it and I just need to watch the horizon.}_

Hiccup smiled at the name the dragon gave Snotlout. On the day Skuf first talked to all the dragons and riders, he told them their "dragon" names. Hookfang named his rider "Cougar" for being so obnoxious, loud, boastful, and unrelenting.

"Yes, looking at the horizon could help. Did he ask you _not_ to fly?"

Negation could be felt from the dragon.

"C'mon, then. Trust me. I know you're feeling really dizzy now, but I'll just hop on Toothless and you can follow us up until you start to feel better. Does that sound good?"

 _{It's worth a try.}_

With a smile, Hiccup pulled away from the dragon, refilled the water bowl, and quietly moved back through the cabin to the stern where Toothless was finishing up his fish.

"You probably already heard all that, right? Wanna do a little more flying?"

Toothless rolled his eyes and plopped his belly on the deck. Hiccup grumbled and started playfully batting at his dragon's sensor lobes. Hookfang has more than made up for the time he almost killed Hiccup that first time they met in the Kill Ring, but he and Toothless have always had a sort of brotherly rivalry between them.

"Toothless," Hiccup chided in a lilting voice. "I know you're haughty and pretentious-"

The dragon snorted and used his snout to squish Hiccup against the cabin.

"But you know how I deal with those I don't like." he wheezed out

 _{Yes, you treat them as friends because you are a crazy land-strider.}_

Toothless let off the pressure and Hiccup grinned. "Correction: I am _your_ crazy land-strider. C'mon, Bud. Please?"

There was no surprise when Toothless grumbled and flicked his head for his rider to mount up. He always had great difficulty in saying no to anything his rider wanted. Hiccup jumped up, clipped in, and they took off.

"Alright, Bud, you wanna do the talking? Just ask Hookfang to take off fast and follow us. You remember how it felt your first time on a boat?"

Toothless groaned at the thought of his ride to the Red Death's nest.

"Err, I mean, the _second_ time!" Hiccup corrected with a grimace. That was actually the memory Toothless shared tonight. During the boat ride back to Berk after killing the Red Death, the nauseating twisting of his stomach was the least of his concerns. His rider was unconscious and not entirely whole. Oh, and they were surrounded by a lot of fidgety Vikings and dragons. The Hooligans had never seen a dragon shed half his scales like that.

Toothless took the opportunity to remind Hookfang that he has it easy in comparison. The Monstrous Nightmare positioned himself on the railing, coiled up, and sprang into the air. After a moment of somewhat uncoordinated flapping and almost splashing into the water with an undignified squawk, he managed to recover just in time and followed the Night Fury as they ascended to fly in wide circles around the ship.

Hiccup didn't say anything, but just let Toothless take the lead. He trusted that his dragon would know what to say and do to help the poor Monstrous Nightmare get over his seasickness. After making some more lazy flight patterns in the sky, Hookfang peeled off to go fly on his own.

Toothless looked back at his rider with a grin. _{Hookfang is feeling much better and is going to dive for some fish before landing. He thanks you for the suggestion and says he feels much better and, perhaps, can get some sleep now.}_

As Hiccup nudged his dragon to ascend, flying higher into the clouds, he decided to act on a whim to voice something that has been bugging him.

"Hey, Bud, I've been thinking. Is it just me or does nobody else seem to have the same... uhhh... sort of bond that _we_ have?"

Toothless cocked his head to the side in thought for a moment. _{Different dragons and different land-striders will behave differently. I agree that their bond isn't as strong as ours, but I don't think that matters. Hookfang is happy with his relationship with Cougar. He does not feel any jealousy that we sleep together or that I only fly with you on my back. They are just more content on their own than we are.}_

Wind whipped through Hiccup's hair and around his ears as they flew in thoughtful silence. It bothered him how casually Toothless accepted that. _I only fly with you on my back._ It was an obvious statement; how _else_ could Toothless fly? Hiccup always said that his missing foot and the dragon's missing tailfin were an even exchange, but that was so far from the truth. He could always make a prosthetic foot to get around on his own, but what about the dragon? The master of the sky had no such luxury and was completely dependant on the worst Viking in the history of Berk. What was he missing out on? In what ways was his rider holding him back?

"Toothless, what do you think you would be doing right now if you didn't have to rely on me for flight?"

The Night Fury craned his neck around and snarled, snapping at his rider's foot. Hiccup was used to his dragon expressing himself in such a way. He had absolutely no concern for his safety, so Toothless often took the liberty to treat his rider like a dragon.

 _{Don't you_ dare _start feeling guilty again!}_ There was vehement outrage so intense it was almost frightening.

"Woah, there, Bud. I didn't mean it _that_ way, really. I wasn't trying to go there. Ummm, let me try again. What do you think _other_ Night Furys would be doing right now, who don't have a rider as you do?"

Toothless locked his wings and soared for a few moments, taking some deep breaths to regain his composure.

 _{Living a life that is far more boring and inferior to what I experience.}_

Hiccup smiled.

"Bud, I think I shall never see the day when I can say I have _earned_ all the kindness you show me, but I think I'm just not asking the right question here. With all these crazy adventures we go on, like this mission we're on right now, I sometimes feel like I'm just _using_ you because you are always following my lead and-"

Before Hiccup could continue, his Night Fury barked at him. _{You are my alpha. Accept it! I have accepted this long ago and have absolutely no regrets! The demonic queen was my alpha before you. She used some trickery to force us to obey. When you freed me from that mind-snare with your land-strider magic, I gladly replaced her with you. If you suggest that was a mistake, I will sit on you until you pass out!}_

Unfazed by such a threat, Hiccup scratched his head. "Huh, I never thought about it that way. Is it, like, a natural desire for a dragon to seek out a leader to follow?"

 _{Yes. The demonic queen's death left a void in our minds. An itch, if you will. Though we dragons are much more solitary than your kind, we have always had a craving for order, for direction, for leadership, for purpose. That is why all those dragons initially flocked to your island after we killed the demonic queen. They sought guidance and order. Even after they realized they had to find nearby islands to live on, they still established tribes with an alpha on each island, usually an older dragon or one who has proven his dominance and worth.}_

Hiccup scratched his chin in thought. Tribe. His dragon said "Tribe". Well, his dragon didn't _say_ anything, but at least that was the word his mind decided to use to represent the thought. He had never seen dragons organize themselves into groups. Then again, he barely got to see them after waking up with a missing limb. They had all flown off in the following days of resting to gain enough strength to fly Toothless again. In all his flying around, it never felt right to just drop in on them and say, "Hi. Toothless and I are the one who saved you all. So, uhhh, how's it going?"

After a while, Hiccup let out a deep sigh and pressed on with his questioning. "What I'm trying to get at is that we've never done anything to seek out _your_ dreams and goals. You're not my pet; you're a _dragon!_ You willingly carry me around and I'm very grateful, but if you could go anywhere you want, do anything you want to do, where would you go? What would you do?"

 _{I would follow my alpha. I would follow you.}_

That took Hiccup's breath away. There was such a somber sincerity and sense of commitment. His dragon accepted his rider as the alpha of the pack in the same casual, matter-of-fact way one would declare that the setting sun would rise the next day.

Suddenly, it all clicked. Toothless has chosen to make himself a bondservant. As such, it was now the rider's responsibility to look after his dragon's needs and wants. What would a Night Fury want to do, though, aside from patrolling around Berk, mapping the Archipelago, and goofing off in the air with random stunts?

"I mean, don't you want to search around to find more Night Furies? Surely, you can't be the _only_ one in the entire world. Maybe find a female? What about your family? Do you have brothers and sisters? We should see if we can find your parents-"

A low, threatening growl could be felt from the dragon, rattling the rider. bitterness and anger fumed from him.

 _{Do not talk about that!}_

Hiccup was stunned. He really wanted to delve into this deeper. Was Toothless exiled from his family? Is that how he, and he alone, ended up in the Red Death's mind snare? Maybe his parents were so pretentious as to say, "Well, if little Toothless got caught up in the Red Death's mind snare, then I will have nothing more to do with him, even if he killed her and freed all the dragons in her grip." Maybe there's nothing but bad memories down that lane and Toothless knew that?

 _Better dance around that for now._

"Alright, Bud. I'm sorry. Me and my unyielding curiosity."

Toothless craned his neck to solemnly look back at his rider out of the corner of one of his eyes. _{You are my alpha and I accept your direction. My wings are yours, Firefly. Accept your position.}_

"I'm not your slave driver."

Toothless growled impatiently. _{I am not your slave.}_

"Then tell me what you want in life!"

 _{I want to follow my alpha. This conversation is over!}_

Toothless flicked his head forward to pull his scales away from Hiccup's hand. Hiccup gasped. There was nothing stopping him from leaning down to touch the dragon's neck, but he knew that's not what he wanted. They angled back toward the ship and flew in silence for what felt like an eternity. Hiccup just sat still. He felt cold without any contact with his dragon.

"Toothless?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry I upset you. I really didn't mean to, Bud."

More silence. One thing Hiccup had learned is that, even though speaking naturally makes him project his thoughts, it's only the projections the dragon understands, not the spoken words. Dragons can also completely block out someone if they so choose. Toothless could choose to be literally unable to hear his rider. Hiccup didn't care if he was talking to a wall; he felt the need to say _something_.

"It's just a lot to swallow for me. You know how my life was like before I met you. I had nothing. I _was_ nothing. And now I have the offspring of lightning and death telling me _this_."

Hiccup held his breath at the lack of response or even acknowledgment of being heard.

"I love you, Bud. You know that, right?"

It was a rhetorical question, really, though he would never say it around his peers because they would just take it in a very immature direction. Though he never explicitly told Toothless, Hiccup always loved the dragon. He concerned himself with his dragon's needs above his own. He would always give to his dragon before taking for himself. He could never be content when his dragon was not.

Toothless let out a long, rumbling sigh and flicked a sensor lobe back toward his rider. Hiccup placed his hand on it. Through the connection, he could feel it in his heart. He was fine. _They_ were fine.

 _{I know, my precious little Firefly, and you know the feeling is mutual, but you sure can be stubborn!}_

Hiccup smiled wide and leaned down to throw his arms around his dragon's head. "Like rider, like dragon. I just don't want to take advantage of your kindness or show any disrespect. That's all."

 _{Don't worry. There is no shame in following your lead. If I feel degraded, I will make sure you are aware. I will tackle you and sit on you so there is no room for doubt, just like usual.}_

The rider breathed a sigh of relief. There was no irreparable damage to their relationship. With the wave of calm that settled in, he realized he forgot something he meant to do before arriving at Bog Burglar island.

"Hey, speaking of bossing you around, we haven't tested the new feature I added to your tailfin, yet. Wanna do that now?"

Toothless looked back with a grin. His excitement for testing new and clever inventions his rider made with his hands was as strong as his admiration for his rider's ingenuity. Hiccup was actually quite proud of this one, though it was inspired by Skuf's impromptu modification to affix the lever that controlled the tailfin angle.

It was a simple little addition. Two torsion springs in the tailfin forced some brackets to lock it fully extended in the neutral position. Pressing down on the control pedal would release the brackets to work the fin. Releasing the pedal would re-engage them. All Toothless would need to do is flick the tail to snap the fin out and the locks would engage.

 _{It sounds fun and dangerous. Tell me what to do.}_

Hiccup removed his legs from the stirrups. Toothless gave a yelp as he started to lose control.

"Flick your tail left, then up and down." He focused his mind on imagining what his dragon should do.

Toothless complied and two distinct clicks could be heard as the tail fin locked into place. After some climbing, diving, and turns, Hiccup was satisfied with the fin's performance. It was nowhere near as controlled or smooth as normal, but Toothless started to get the hang of controlling his flight with a fixed tailfin. He had to roll and angle himself in strange ways to achieve a climb or to change direction in a controlled manner. Hiccup could tell it wasn't pleasant, but it worked.

His heart sank, though, when he put his left foot back in the stirrup and tried to press down. The stirrup didn't extend back to its normal position as it was supposed to. Hence, the locking mechanism wouldn't disengage.

"Umm, Bud, it's jammed. I think I can fix it later with some grinding when we land. Got a small file in the saddlebag."

 _{I can land us like this, but it won't be pretty.}_

Hiccup chewed on his lip in thoughtful silence, then snapped his fingers with a big smile on his face. "I got it! Flick your tail to the left again."

As the dragon complied, Hiccup pressed his foot down into the stirrup. With the force taken off of the locking mechanisms for an instant, he was able to extend the stirrups to disengage the lock.

"Yes! I'm awesome!" he whooped.

Toothless trilled with delight at having proper control again. An idea came to mind. They were more than high enough for some goofing off.

"Alright, Bud, one more little test. Do your tail flick again."

This time, Hiccup not only took his feet out of the stirrups, but also released his flight harness from the saddle and raised himself up, balancing his one good foot on his dragon's forehead. Toothless flicked his tail, clicking the fin into place.

Feeling the weight of his rider on his head, the Night Fury chortled and flew along, angling his neck to balance his rider as he maneuvered - before flipping over to grab him in his front paws.

It didn't take long after holding his rider by his good foot, swinging him around like a pendulum, for Toothless to realize that he could not get Hiccup to scream in terror. Indeed, it seemed he _enjoyed_ being manhandled by his dragon. In fact, the rider pulled a fast one when he went completely slack after being tossed up and caught, pretending he passed out. The dragon whined in fear until he heard his rider burst into laughter beneath him.

After a while, both rider and dragon had their fill of senseless excitement and Toothless put his rider back in the saddle with a graceful diving barrel roll, tossing him up while inverted so he could fall back down onto the dragon's back after completing the roll. This was one of the tricks Toothless could still perform with a locked tailfin because rolling relied mainly on his aileron flaps that were immediately behind his wings.

As they made their approach to the ship, they saw Hookfang curled up at the bow, who appeared to be sleeping. Toothless and Hiccup landed at the stern again and settled into their night watch routine, just like they did when sailing from Berserker Island with Skullcrusher. Hiccup trimmed the sail and adjusted the rudder to maintain their course.

After removing the saddle and tail fin, he found another large bowl and was about to fill it with water, but decided to just grab a water skin instead, and poured the water into his dragon's mouth. Not only did it make Toothless look a bit more dignified than slurping water from a bowl on the deck like some dog, but he also was enjoying the novelty of drinking this way.

After a few refills of the water skin, when Toothless was all set, the young Viking rummaged through the saddlebag and retrieved a wooden massaging stone that Fishlegs had made for Toothless. The Night Fury lay on his side and wriggled in anticipation as Hiccup pressed the tool along his flank and under his wings to work the tensed up muscles.

Toothless rolled his eyes back and let his tongue hang out as he melted into a draconic puddle of bliss. Hiccup always found it quite entertaining to watch and almost expected his dragon to ooze between the boards of the decking. After finishing one side, Toothless gladly rolled over to receive the same treatment on the other.

"Oh, I' sor'y, would 'ya two like some prive'cy? Perhaps your own room at an inn?"

Hiccup yelped in surprise and looked up to see an older Viking with a broad frame, brown eyes, a long, gray beard, and an impish grin. He then realized that Toothless had been audibly huffing and sighing with pleasure as his rider worked the knotted muscles loose with the massaging stone.

"Ack! Don't even think of going there! Imagine how sore your legs would be if you were running from sunrise till noon. Imagine how amazing a massage would feel after such a run."

Ack chortled and waved his hand, dismissing it all for the silly joke it was. "Ya ya. When yer ready, go gi' some sleep, ya li'l night owl. I'll keep the ship until we get there."

Dragon and rider made their way through the cabin to the front of the ship. They curled up together at the bow, next to Hookfang, who was curled up into a ball with his head and tail tucked in, torso swelling gently with his breathing. Hiccup hugged one of his dragon's forelegs and a wing cocooned them both.

He thought back to their first time flying, after they had that fall and survived the rocky maze of death and everything just clicked into place. He focused on projecting his feelings as they soared through the air. They were free. They were untouchable. They were gods looking down on the little mortals below.

They were one.

Toothless purred and snugged his rider in tight. Hiccup made a vow right then and there. He would never sleep in a bed ever again.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading, y'all.

In answer to Blackberry Avatar's question, I don't plan on making Skuf any more potent with his telepathy than what we've seen so far. No Jedi knights in my story. ;)


	13. Arrival

**13 - Arrival**

Camicazi smiled for the first time in many days as she watched a ship with Berk's crest slide into port. The sun shone brightly through the scattered clouds as it passed the midpoint of its arc across the sky. The wind blew gently, bringing in the salty smell of the sea. This good weather was especially welcome after the storms that had rolled through for the past couple weeks. Helping to repair buildings after damages sustained by a chain of storms with heavy rain, hail, and strong winds left Camicazi with sore arms and tender blisters.

Hopefully, Hiccup would be on-board that ship to take her mind off of how sore she still felt. That little Hooligan had been her best friend from another tribe. Both he and she were small and runty for their age and shared common interests in exploring and simply getting into trouble.

However, he's been a ghost for the past couple years. This past Spring, she went with her tribe's trade visit to Berk, but everyone had said Hiccup was elsewhere. Threatening the Hooligans and whining to Ma did very little to reveal where elsewhere was, surprisingly enough.

Camicazi idly watched the Hooligans as they debarked from the extended ramp, wobbling for the first few steps on solid land. The first to step off, of course, was Stoick the Vast, who jovially greeted Camicazi's mother and chiefess, Big Bertha. They exchanged bellows that could be heard halfway across the island – nothing new there.

Then, there was the repugnant Spitelout and his punk son, Snotlout. Even though Snotlout was Hiccup's cousin, he was the exact opposite in every way. He was broad and strong... arrogant, prideful, haughty, rude, and boastful. He would flex his muscles at Camicazi as if that would somehow impress or intimidate a girl who trained to use speed and agility to slide a blade into people's arteries.

Snotlout has always given Hiccup a hard time and Camicazi wouldn't stand for that. Sure, Hiccup has always been a wimpy pushover, but he was also crazy. Crazy was entertaining, so Camicazi always kept an eye out for him. Besides, it sometimes allowed her to showcase her impressive sword fighting skills. Today, though, she had different ideas for how to undermine Snotlout. Maybe slide a knife against his throat when he's alone and take his coin. Or, better yet, take advantage of the fact that her body was starting to... fill out... and lure him in and lead him on before leaving him brokenhearted and doubled over in pain.

 _Yes, toying with his cold heart could be fun!_

The rest of the Hooligans that shuffled off the boat were more of the same assortment of large, broad Vikings with long beards and large axes - the usual dragon-slaying lot with strength, pride, honor, and all sorts of other worthless traits and values that scream to the world, "I refuse to think for myself, so I'll mindlessly do what my Pa says until I die a meaningless death!"

Still no Hiccup. Camicazi vowed that if that boy wasn't on that boat, she would find him and flog him with her belt until he–

"Hiccup!"

The sinister devilish inventor himself was finally spotted behind all those sacks of meat. The one Viking on Berk who actually had an imagination and sense of adventure. Traditions be damned, this boy can actually think for himself. It's amazing his father hasn't disowned him yet with how much he approaches a problem with logic instead of tradition.

Camicazi ran up to him without another word with her long, blond hair flowing behind. She grabbed him by the wrist to forcefully drag him along the dock toward the beach, elbowing her way through the Vikings and shimmying along the edge of the dock. As she passed by Snotlout, she "lost her balance" and "accidentally" pushed him off the dock and into the water, then slid herself and her follower past Stoick toward freedom.

Hiccup hesitantly followed her lead – as if he had any choice – with all the usual uncertainty he always had in the presence of his condescending elders. His usual witty sarcasm was still there, though, as he quickly shot out, "Uh, I think I gotta go, Dad. See you later tonight. You're as cordial and patient as ever, Cami. Nice to see you, too, on this fine-GAH"

Hiccup stumbled at the end of the dock as he stepped onto the rocky beach, sprawling down and taking Camicazi with him. Both nervously laughed as the eyes of all the other Bog-Burglars and Hooligans were on the two. Hiccup was the first to recover, standing quickly to offer his hand to his friend.

As she took it, she noticed something very different about him that she hadn't seen two years ago. "Hiccup! Your leg! What happened to it?"

After hefting her up, Hiccup shrugged nonchalantly. "Ah, ya know, dragons. Never a dull day on Berk."

Snotlout pulled himself back onto the dock. The water practically boiled off as he stomped toward them, shouting curses. Camicazi gave Hiccup another tug that almost sent them sprawling again, but they managed to remain vertical and sprinted off past the village and into the forest, leaving Snotlout behind.

Safe in the seclusion of the dense woods, Camicazi broke out into winded laughter as they both caught their breath. "Did you _see_ the look on his face?" she crooned.

"Ha ha ha, yeah," Hiccup gave a fake laugh. "He's totally going to drag my face through the mud for that. Thanks, Cami."

Camicazi rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't worry. It was worth it!"

"For _one_ of us."

Camicazi brushed off such accusations and they set out for their favorite spot on the far side of the island. Along the way, they talked about life in the past two years. Camicazi could tell the boy was hiding something, dodging around some of his activities on Berk and why he was never there when she came to port.

As tempting as it was to get her answers by threatening him, she wanted to wait this out and coerce them from him. It would be a lot more fun that way. Hiccup has always been an interesting puzzle and smashing puzzles is hardly entertaining, after all.

She had no idea that he already had an alibi for all this and said alibi did not involve him riding a Night Fury to map out the islands in the archipelago if Odin ever did have a beard.

On the way to the far side of the island, they enjoyed some jogging through the forest, investigating interesting mushrooms, sword-fighting with sticks, and playing tag. That is, they played tag until Camicazi realized it was neither fair nor fun to outrun a peg leg.

Finally, they reached their destination. It was a cove similar to the one on Berk that Hiccup showed her several years ago, covered in grass and ferns and dotted with trees. A swift, trickling stream flowed through an opening in the cove walls, past a rocky beach, and into the sea. It bulged into a pond near the center of the cove, where they could always find some decently sized fish. The ground within this haven was covered in grass, moss, ferns, and a vibrant palette of wildflowers of purple, red, yellow, orange, and almost every other color in existence. Being so far South from Berk, Bog Burglar island still had its share of ice and snow, but also had fairer weather overall that allowed for some beautiful plantlife not seen on the Northern islands.

The two young Vikings did some repairs to their lean-to that had been there since Hiccup's last visit. Camicazi brought a small hand ax that proved to be very useful in carving up some more slats to repair the roof while Hiccup hunted down some vines to split and twine together to serve as cordage for securing the slats to the main support beam. A fire was built up and lit outside of the lean-to, outlined by a ring of fist-sized stones that served as a heat reflector.

Together, they made some fishing spears using some nifty tricks Camicazi had recently learned. She grabbed Hiccup's bush knife out of his sheath - without asking for permission, of course - and used it to split the tip of a long, straight, freshly cut stick into six evenly sized prongs. Then, she jammed a few skinny twigs into the crevices where the prongs diverged and used some cordage to bind it all together. She even showed Hiccup how to carve barbs into the spear ends to secure any impaled fish more effectively.

Hiccup breathed in wonder when he saw the finished product. "I think Toothless will really enjoy all the extra fish I can catch with this. We go fishing together quite often. Toothless is much better at it than me, but he loves it when I catch a fish and give it to him."

Camicazi shot a casual look at her friend. "Who's Toothless? You Hooligans and your silly names."

"Oh, uh... he's a friend of mine. My best friend ever."

Camicazi raised her eyebrows.

"Old-time friend?"

"Two years. We've been inseparable since the day we met. I'd trust him with my life without a second thought."

Camicazi put on a mischievous grin. "A lover, then, hmm?"

Hiccup made an exaggerated gagging sound. "What? Eew! No! Just friends, but more than that. Brothers, you might even say."

"Oh?"

"Ya. Found him in the woods. Helped him out."

Camicazi smirked.

"Sounds like you found an escaped slave."

Hiccup's expression turned to shock for a moment before he set his face in determination. "He _was_ a slave. Killed the slave-master that captured him."

"Sounds like someone I'd like to meet."

Hiccup shrugged. "At your own risk. Some people see him and react... funny. My own father tried to kill him on sight the first time."

Camicazi raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." The boy suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable. "He almost killed Astrid first time they crossed paths. They're good friends now, though. You know how it goes up in dragon land." Hiccup gave a wink. "No better way to make a friend than to fight him."

Camicazi grinned wide.

"Oh, then I _must_ meet this Toothless, sometime. I expect you to introduce him to me when the opportunity arises."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Once again, she could tell that he was fibbing. Something was definitely off, but she pretended not to notice.

However, she would have never expected the actual truth he was hiding to be something so crazy as, "Oh, he's actually a dragon that I ride, but please don't stab me because of silly rumors you may have heard from Dagur and his gang about Berk building a dragon army and whatnot hahahaa."

The two young Vikings proceeded to make a second fishing spear and spent part of the afternoon spearing fish from the pond inside the cove and the sandy shallows of the sea. Camicazi could hit them in her sleep and ended up landing several decently-sized cod, halibut, and trout. Hiccup, though, was always aiming his spear too high, not anticipating the optical illusion of things seen under the water, but he caught on pretty quickly and managed to land a couple. He had to admit that he always relied more on a hook and line or some fish trap designs he's starting to test out.

What he did _not_ mention was that spearing fish has been really easy as of late because his dragon would shoot an explosive fireball into the water and dead fish would float to the surface.

While they fished, Camicazi tried some subtle attempts to draw out more details about this Toothless fellow. All Hiccup would divulge was that Toothless was big and strong, but very kind and gentle. He has had a rough past with lots of turmoil, but people judge him by his looks and very few would give him a chance to show his true colors. Whenever she talked about meeting him, Hiccup would just stutter and say he'd like to arrange for that to happen.

Still, she resisted the temptation to hit or threaten him for more details. Everyone always dismissed him as a clumsy, babbling fool, but Camicazi was not so easily deceived. She knew it was all just an act he'd perfected years ago to manipulate people into dismissing him when he didn't want to explain something. It's a game he plays and Camicazi has always been intrigued to play with him.

When they were satisfied with their catch, they piled the fish in the shade of the lean-to at the back of the cove. After gutting some, cooking, and eating their fill, Hiccup turned to Camicazi.

"I made a sword, recently. First I made for myself. Wanna see it?"

Camicazi couldn't help but smirk when the boy suddenly realized that the aforementioned weapon was already in the Burglar's hand. The gaping look of astonishment was _priceless_.

As she looked over the blade, Hiccup explained some details about it. It was quite the work of art; short and light, with a graceful taper and a delicate-looking crossguard that was probably more than sufficient for the strength the boy had. Hefting it around had a nice light feel, but she knew Hiccup wasn't as weak as he allowed others to believe. While everyone else saw twigs for arms and legs, the Burglar felt his well-developed core structure from her playful punches to his stomach and the spot behind the ribs. That is where the strength that matters comes from for thrusting.

Behind the blade and crossguard, the handle was ornately wrapped in fine leather strips woven with silk. The pommel featured a black onyx stone that looked absolutely stunning in its polished beauty. She had never pilfered onyx stones before, but it wouldn't be surprising if one so fine as this came from a fellow Burglar who sold it to a trader. Small world. Such a stone would cost an arm and a leg.

Camicazi smirked. _Maybe the one-legged boy got a discount._

The interesting thing about this stone, though, was that it wasn't held on by metal clasps, as with most other stone or gem pommels. Instead, it looked like the boy actually managed to bore a hole clear through the stone to accept the tang of the blade. She could tell because of the mushroomed metal on the end of the pommel where the tang was peened over.

Before she could ask about that, though, Hiccup started droning on about other aspects of the sword. "Actually, I had some help. Gobber forged the sword blank for me, but I did all the other work. I used a technique one of the older immigrants to Berk showed me where you smear some acid into the etchings and then heat it up to make it black like that. Then, just spend an eternity-and-a-half polishing the blade and you get these nice, crisp lines. I kinda like the effect. We have a very experienced sword-fighter on our island who recommended this shape to the blade as dodging and parrying suits my frame much better than blocking or relying on the cross-guard."

Camicazi tried to read the runes engraved into one side. "Strong... bonds... fire?"

"The strongest bonds are forged in the hottest fires."

The Burglar quirked a smile. "That's adorable."

She ran a light finger over an image that was similarly etched in black along the other side of the blade. The lines were crisp and clean - something she would only expect from "Hiccup the Useless". The image appeared to be a dragon with a weird-looking head, short neck, wings, and tail with... _something_ on the end of it. It was all stretched out from head to tail to fit on the slender blade.

"Is that a-"

"Dragon? Yep. A Night Fury, to be specific."

Camicazi furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. "Riiiight. I suppose your guess on what they look like is as good as anyone else's. I heard they attack only at night and never expose themselves. In fact, I guess no dragons have attacked for a couple years. Recently, we've never seen any dragons, except way off in the distance."

Hiccup shrugged. "Eh, we have a lot more up at Berk. I actually got a good look at a Night Fury, once."

"I swear you guys shoulda just carved out your homes in caves instead of rebuilding wooden houses like fools. Your island is essentially one big mountain range, after all.

Hiccup's mouth gaped as he stared at her. Obviously, this thought never crossed his mind. Then again, maybe they had hilltop pastures and wooden houses to _tempt_ the dragons to come raid. After all, killing a dragon was everything up there. Unfortunately, the Burglars had no such option with a very flat island and a village in a large clearing. If the raids came more than a few times a year, there probably wouldn't be any Burglars left.

"That's actually quite brilliant, Cami! Where _were_ you three hundred years ago when we _really_ could have used such wisdom?"

Camicazi laughed. "Over here, laughing at you barbaric fools."

Hiccup returned the grin. "Apparently!"

Camicazi rested the flat of the sword on her two index fingers, sliding them together until it balanced on one point and casually noted, "Balance just barely forward of the crossguard. Good for quick strikes and controlled deflections. Not so good at shifting around a shield, but I bet you're not planning on that sorta fighting style anyway."

"Well, the sword is decorative, really. If I ever have to use it to defend myself and put dings in the blade, I think I shall cry. I actually believe that fighting is reserved only for the incompetent, anyway. There's always a way to solve one's problems without coming to blows."

Camicazi decided to let that little jab slide. It was really directed at the barbaric tribes that were ruled by males, anyway. The all-female Burglars preferred to avoid direct confrontations and get what they wanted through sleight of hand or some sort of manipulations. As for how they got their offspring and got rid of the worthless boys... well, men will be men.

Unaware of Camicazi's stance, Hiccup grimaced as he realized he came off a bit more offensive than intended, but she shot him a small smile as she stood up to give the sword some experimental swings through the air, testing its weight in action. She made sure some of those swings came a little closer to the boy than he was comfortable with, just to make sure he didn't get too bold.

"I like the balance. It just feels natural in the hand." She grinned at Hiccup. "Not bad for an apprentice blacksmith."

Hiccup chuckled and then did something very strange. As Camicazi held the sword in her hand, he delicately grabbed the end of the blade between his index and middle fingers, nudging it around. The Burglar loosened her grip a little and narrowed her eyes in curiosity about what this silly boy was doing. As he guided the tip of the blade to his own throat, she gulped and just stood there, wondering what in the frozen Hel was going on.

 _This has_ got _to be some sort of Hooligan tradition._

Hiccup just stood there, tip of the sword gently pricking the skin on his throat, and calmly stared at the girl.

"Cami, you're good at reading a face. That's part of your training as a Burglar and an heiress, right? What do you see in me? Joy, fear, calm, scared?"

"Ummm, I bet _I_ have a look of confusion on _my_ face. However, yes, you look very calm."

Regaining her composure, she gave an evil smirk as she moved the tip of the blade to rest on top of his chest.

"Yep, still calm."

Then, she slowly positioned the blade over the bridge of Hiccup's nose.

"Aha, a little nervous, oh, but calm again."

Hiccup grinned. "I've never appreciated my grinds on the edge of the blade from this angle. They're so straight and uniform."

In a truly inspired moment, Camicazi placed the tip against a certain spot between the boy's legs and enjoyed the amusing sight as he gulped and shifted his weight nervously. _Of course_ he would care about that more than his own neck.

 _Boys!_

She withdrew the sword and said, "Is this some sort of demonstration or right of passage tradition of your silly tribe? Remain calm in the face of possible death?" She smirked. "Or worse?"

Hiccup nervously chuckled as he tilted the opening of his leather scabbard towards Camicazi, who slid the sword in.

"No, our traditions usually involve a lot more bloodshed and bashing our heads against hard things. I just wanted to make a point. You literally had my life in your hands. One subtle thrust could end my life and both of us knew it. However, as you saw for yourself, that didn't scare me."

"Until I slid the tip down to-"

"I'm _trying_ to make a point!"

Camicazi raised an eyebrow in question. Hiccup held her stare intently as if to communicate with his eyes that what he was about to say defined him as a person.

"It is not one's ability that can scare me, but one's intent. The ability to kill is not scary at all in my opinion. But the _desire_ to kill is morbidly terrifying."

The Burglar just stared with a skeptical look. "You are the silliest person in the world, Hiccup."

The boy grinned. "Yeah, I get that a lot, but I'm actually going somewhere with this. By the way, I have something for you."

He reached for his waist, only to realize that what he was looking for wasn't there. As he fumbled around in frustration, Camicazi smile and asked, "Another one of your inventions? That spring-loaded knife sheath you gave me two years ago was cute, but I think it could use some more tweaking."

It _was_ a clever invention that popped the knife out of the sheath when a tab was pressed, but it almost sliced off her finger when it misfired. _Almost_ , being the operative word, fortunately.

Hiccup chuckled as he nervously felt all around his person for something that just wasn't there. "Well, you know me. Inventing silly stuff just for the sake of inventing. This is much less useful, but all the more awesome in my opinion."

Realization dawned and he frowned at her. "I really should have known. You are Cami, after all."

Camicazi smirked as she hefted the small cloth sack that she had filched from his waist. "I was hoping it was a coin purse. Why don't you have any coin on you?"

Hiccup crossed his arms. "I'm not even going to dignify that question with an answer. Anyway, check out the gift I brought you."

Camicazi emptied the bag into her cupped hands to see six thin, hard, black plates, each about three fingers wide. They were very smooth, almost flat, but had a nearly-imperceptible bowl shape to them. The concave side was rough, but the convex side was smooth as ice and had a very subtle iridescence as the light played off it from examining it from different angles. She ran her fingers across the little plates, holding one in the air and tilting it, admiring the dark, unidentifiable shades that teased the very threshold of perception as the sun hit it from different angles.

"They're beautiful, Hiccup. Thank you!"

She leaned forward, giving her friend a quick hug. It was anyone's guess what to do with these things, but she had never seen anything like it before.

 _Maybe they're worth a lot?_

Hiccup grinned mischievously. "Can you guess what they are?"

Camicazi stared at the little plates in her hand in thought, pressing two together along the edges to see if they fit together, somehow.

"They sort of remind me of the shields we've stolen from the Lava Louts. Are they dragon-"

"Scales?" Hiccup suggested with a crooked grin. "Yep. Night Fury scales, to be more specific."

The girl clenched the scales at her side and looked with suspicion. "You sure are _obsessed_ with Night Furies. Nobody's seen or even heard their shriek in two years. How in the world would... you..."

She stopped, noticing a sheepish grin on Hiccup, who was looking over her shoulder. Suddenly, her skin started to crawl as she sensed something nearby. The sound of heavy breathing and the hot puff of air on the back of her neck only confirmed what she already knew. They were not alone. The look on Hiccup's face made it clear that he had coaxed her into a dangerous situation.

Acting on instinct, she dropped the scales and whirled around while jumping to the side and drawing her blades in one fluid motion. They gleamed in the sun as she glared at the intruder that tried to sneak up on her.

At her first good look at the intruder, her glare shifted into a shock as her jaw dropped to the ground.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** DUN DUN DUUUUN!

FYI, I plan to take a couple weeks off. Ya know, don't wanna go at it too long without a break and I'm a lil' over halfway through, anyway. So, I'll see you in a bit. Well, ok, not really "see" you, 'cause that would be creepy, but ya know what I mean.

Oh, and thank you so much for your very kind words, Caeoltoiri! I'm glad you like it so far and I hope I don't drop the ball. Also, anyone who loves some derpy dragon cuddle scenes will get some of that coming up, btw (no, Camicazi won't be doing the cuddling).


	14. Confrontation

**14 - Confrontation**

Time seemed to hang still. Camicazi stared, unable to come to terms with what her eyes saw. Black scales. Two wings limply folded up at its sides. Two wide, vertical pupils, shrouded in acid green orbs, seemed to stare into her soul. A dragon!

A gods-damned _dragon_!

Her mind raced. Dragon raids were a novelty this far South and her only involvement was in hiding livestock or handling fire buckets. Fighting this thing would be suicide as her little, lightweight shortsword and dagger would hardly penetrate the scales. It was anyone's guess how fast that thing could move. She needed to escape. If she could make it out of the cove and into the dense forest, the dragon surely wouldn't be able to weave around and under trees and branches as quickly as the nimble Burglar.

Then again, Murdering Hiccup sounded like a fine idea, too. Well, maybe not something _quite_ so drastic. He had always been a troublemaker with his inventions and troll hunting, but he also had a kind and gentle heart. They had always been good friends. To think he would betray her like this… she would find him and extract some answers by whatever means necessary.

After escaping the demon standing here, that is.

In an attempt to throw the beast off-kilter and buy some time to run, she clanged her blades together and gave a fierce battle cry. The dragon's response to her shout, though, fixed her feet where she stood in disbelief. What she saw stunned her and left her completely immobile and speechless with her jaw hanging to the ground. The beast did not rear back in alarm, nor did it charge forward or run away.

It rolled onto its back, writhing on the ground, legs kicking spasmodically as it gasped in shallow pants.

An instant later, Hiccup was crouched over the dragon, pounding on its chest with a fist, shifting his gaze between the beast and the terrified Burglar. After a few loud thumps, it started to hack and breathe normally again, relaxing onto its side, looking up at the girl. She took another step back, willing her seemingly lead-laden feet to stop resisting her attempts to flee, and held her blades close.

There were rumors of dragons with riders spotted around Berk, but this... _This_ was simply beyond belief! Little Hiccup had a pet dragon. A pet...

Hiccup looked up at her with a grin on his face and said, "Easy there, Cami. You _scared_ him."

Camicazi shrieked, " _I_ SCARED _HIM_?!"

Once again, the Burglar could only stare dumbly at the sight before her as Hiccup rolled around on the ground, laughing hysterically. The dragon seemed to be in a similar fit, making some strange gurgling sound that Camicazi didn't want to acknowledge as a chortle. Her mind screamed, "That's a dragon! Run while you can!", but her feet were non-compliant.

After a moment, the laughing fit passed and both the boy and the dragon rolled over to their feet. Camicazi instinctively raised her blades and took a step back. She cast a furtive glance back towards the entrance to the cove and the forest beyond. By now, she had managed to drag her feet a bit closer and felt a little less helpless.

She slowly shook her head in disbelief while shuffling backward, pulling her feet against the anchor of shock and terror and curiosity holding her there, just mouthing over and over again, "No... way..."

Hiccup draped an arm over the dragon's snout, idly scratching its maw, and said, "That's exactly what _Astrid_ said when _she_ saw him for the first time. You _did_ say you wanted to meet Toothless when the opportunity arose, after all... so..."

The boy gestured dramatically between girl and dragon.

"Camicazi, Toothless. Toothless, Camicazi."

Camicazi took another step back, casting a glance at the entrance to the cove, unable to make heads or tails - draconic or otherwise - of the situation. Hiccup... dragon... dragon not going on a rampage... Viking standing near dragon and not dying.

The safety of the forest was only ten sprinting paces away by now. If she turned quick enough to take them by surprise...

"Aww, c'mon Cami," Hiccup pleaded. "We were just _playing_. Don't be scared. Please don't run away like _Astrid_ did."

The girl suddenly stopped, squaring against the two. "I'm _not_ scared and don't even _think_ of comparing me to that _barbarian_!"

The look on the boy's face of one trying to hide a satisfied smirk told her that his plea was really a bait and she just ate it up.

Hiccup pushed himself off the dragon's head and raised his hands in apology. "Alright, alright. Sorry. I _did_ tell you, though, that Toothless is not too well-received by strangers.

The dragon's pupils rounded and it lowered its posture, tail slowly wagging, making it look like a giant, demonic puppy dog with wings... and big teeth, and sharp claws, and could probably belch out a lake of fire or something.

Camicazi relaxed her stance imperceptibly, but still kept her blades ready. Too scared to run, she screeched, "That's a... a..."

"A dragon!" Hiccup declared with obtusely fake and overplayed drama. He put his fingers in the dragon's mouth, lightly grabbing its lower jaw. Camicazi's breath caught in her throat when those nasty teeth proceeded to _not_ tear his flesh to ribbons, but instead, suddenly disappeared as the dragon clamped down and nibbled on his hand with apparently toothless gums. Already, this runt of a Viking has outperformed Alvin the Treacherous, who once demonstrated his ability to make a Terrible Terror sit to receive a fish. The dragon would always try to bite off his fingers in the process, though. All the tribal chieftains at the meeting were not too impressed.

"A Night Fury to be specific," Hiccup continued with a taunting lilt in his voice. "And such a scawy wittle dwagon, too! So vewy scawy!"

Camicazi took a step back, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. It seemed to be the only appropriate retort.

"Aww, c'mon, Cami." Hiccup pleaded, pulling his hands free and turning to face her with a stooped posture. "You know me. You're my friend. I would _never_ do anything to hurt you – and that spring-loaded knife sheath doesn't count. I never imagined it would misfire like that!"

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. How Hiccup managed to tame a dragon and train it to be so obedient was beyond comprehension, but the implication was clear as day. This was a threat. A show of power. Big Bertha had been talking to some of the chiefs about the Hooligan dragons and how to deal with this situation, but hadn't committed to anything, yet. Cacmicazi realized now that she had allowed herself to get so distracted by having fun with her childhood friend that she forgot he could actually be a serious threat. Now, he was making a statement and Camicazi is to be his frightened messenger.

"So, it's true, then," Camicazi whispered. "You Hooligans _can_ control dragons."

 _Maybe_ , she reasoned with herself, _they can be bought off with some shiny jewels or... certain arrangements? Males are easily distracted, after all, but... If mother tries to marry me off to keep the peace, I will castrate him with a dull, rusty knife, tie him to a chair, lure his most hated enemy to give me a child - in front of him - then deliver said child in front of him and, if it's a boy, shove that thing down his throat!_

Hiccup laughed loudly, earning a scowl from his Burglar friend, who would swear she saw the dragon roll its eyes. "No, not control. It's impossible for someone to control a dragon. We actually tried that, before, as a test to see if... well, I'll explain all that later. Anyway, you can't control them, but you _can_ be their friend."

Camicazi took another step backward.

"Please don't run," Hiccup begged. "I mean, if you want to run on back, I won't stop you. You could even take a casual stroll and stop to smell the flowers and Toothless and I still wouldn't make a single move to stop you. I promise you that! I'll just be forced to fly off and Dad will have to insist you're crazy and beat a hasty retreat and nobody will have gained anything. At least let me tell you how I met Toothless."

"Toothless? What kind of name is- Whatever, just state your demands!"

The boy raised an eyebrow. Camicazi scowled. Did that boy _really_ think she was so ignorant he could play dumb?

"I'm no simpleton, Hiccup! You're showing me your dragon, alone in the forest, so I can hear your ultimatum and run back screaming to Ma. I am not so easily scared!"

The boy smiled and took a seat on the dragon's snout, idly toeing the grass in his bare feet - well, _foot_. Camicazi hated herself for feeling calmed from such a gesture.

"There are no demands," Hiccup said. Camicazi's mind railed against her instinctual assessment of his facial features as somber and sincere. "No ultimatum. It's just _me_. Little Hiccup. I haven't really changed that much since you last saw me, but the whole world has. It feels like everyone has united against us because we befriend dragons instead of murder them. Our own allies seek to lash out against us out of fear of the unknown and nobody wants to listen to us - to _me_! I know it's difficult and scary and hard to swallow, but I want to show you the truth that nobody else is willing to hear. Just give me a chance! Please?"

Camicazi chewed on her lip. "It's just so hard to believe you could tame a dragon and turn it into your pet."

The dragon snarled and shoved Hiccup's rear off its face. Camicazi jumped. Hiccup immediately spun around to face his dragon, grabbing its upper maw and staring into its eyes.

He muttered, under his breath, "I don't care. Then _let_ her say that all she wants! Please? For me? Fine, if you agree to be nice."

Then, looking back to Camicazi, he said, "I could sooner tame you than Toothless and he's not a pet. We're equals. He's a member of our tribe, just like Dad or Ack or myself. Here, let me start at the beginning. Ya know, I was actually trying to kill Toothless the day we met."

Hiccup took a couple casual steps into the cove, toward their lean-to, using a single finger to push the dragon back. He then grabbed a fish from the pile, ignoring the girl who was still holding a blade in each hand. The blades had relaxed to point at the ground, at least.

Grasping the fish, he said, "I first saw Toothless in the woods on Berk. Naturally, I went to slay him because that's what Vikings do." The Viking rolled his eyes and dryly droned, "We kill things, right?"

Hiccup dramatically held out his hand that grasped the sizable cod by the tail as he turned to face the dragon in a mock battle stance. "Unfortunately, a fish was the deadliest thing I had on me at that time. Nevertheless, I wielded it like a weapon and thrust it at the dragon!"

He demonstrated this, swinging the cod in a dramatic upward slash, but the dragon grabbed the fish out of Hiccup's hand mid-swing with his toothless mouth, then his teeth shot out and he quickly ate it, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

Continuing, Hiccup said, "He then regurgitated half the fish and made me eat it, which is disgusting, so we won't go there. And that's pretty much how I met Toothless. It turns out dragons don't like it when you swing axes at them, but they _really_ like fish. Who knew?"

Camicazi could only stare dumbly. Dragon, but not viciously murdering Vikings and burning down homes. Tamed, but an equal. Powerful, but not used to threaten or conquer. She wanted to deny it, but there wasn't room to doubt what she saw in Hiccup's eyes as he pleaded with her. There was an earnest sincerity, a certain innocence that a person simply cannot fake.

She said, "I have a feeling that's not _really_ what happened."

Hiccup shrugged. "Consider it a metaphor. When I first looked into his eyes, I saw… well, a lot of things. Pain and fear and loss and resignation. I saw myself. Ever since that day, we have been redefining each other for the better. Dragon's aren't dumb animals, Camicazi; they're _people_! I know it's hard to accept, but it's the truth.

The Burglar chewed her lip and focused on the dragon, staring into its eyes. _No, not an it… he… Toothless._ She had spent her life training to read a person at a glance as it is a very necessary skill as both a Burglar and an heiress. It was almost disturbing how well her experience translated to this situation.

Those draconic eyes stared back at her with a regal dignity and prideful composure of one who knew he was powerful and in control. There was this undeniable, calm, deep confidence to such a degree that to show off or try to impress others would be beneath him. Those eyes instantly softened into humble contentment and adoration when Hiccup reached a hand up to scratch the dragon behind his… ear fins… or whatever those little flaps were. She decided that maybe, at the very least, this dragon had a certain intelligence that set it above any animal.

She also came to the inescapable conclusion that sanity had taken leave with no promise to return with the next words that escape her lips as she sheathed her blades.

"Can I... ummm, pet him? You promise he's safe... he won't hurt me?"

Hiccup held up a hand in oath. "No matter what, Toothless will not hurt you or make any aggressive move against you. On this, I swear my life."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what!"

Behind him, the Night Fury sat down on his haunches and drew his lips up and back in a creepy - if not cute - imitation of a toothless smile. Apparently, her sanity was still vacant.

"Good." The Burglar took a step forward with a grin on her face - and then brought up a knee hard into Hiccup's groin. The boy doubled over in pain and curled up on the ground, groaning.

" _Why_ would you _do_ that?

Camicazi looked down at him and said, "That... was for scaring me."

Hiccup gasped, "I don't think I deserved that one."

As promised, the dragon didn't make any aggressive moves. The way his eyes flicked between his master and the girl made it clear he was displeased with what she did to Hiccup, though. The dragon's posture shifted into a more aggressive stance, but a stern look from his master settled him back down. Hiccup was fine, anyway. Definitely in pain, but the blow was softened by the leather pants he was wearing that fit so tight and seemed to cling to the cheeks of his-

Camicazi shook herself back to the present. She took another step forward, now within arm's reach of the dragon's head.

"You sure he won't bite or maul me."

"Not between the legs, at least." Hiccup wheezed from below.

Camicazi nervously reached her hand forward and the dragon pressed his nose into her palm. She gasped and jumped back, drawing a ragged chuckle out of Hiccup. The dragon just cocked his head to the side and waited. She took a cautious step forward again and extended her hand towards his snout once more, touching her fingertips to the scaly skin... then started laughing childishly.

 _Yep, I am definitely insane!_

"He's... purring?"

She could swear that if she closed her eyes, aside from seeing just how insane she was for such instant trust in the scaly beast, she could feel... things that were not hers. Emotions. Relief. Joy. Some ire that must have been for how she treated his master.

 _No, not master. Rider. Equal. Friend. Companion._

Her eyes suddenly open as something wet and warm clamped over both hands that were feeling the dragon's snout. Camicazi squealed in panic and tried to jump away, but the dragon held both hands tight in his toothless maw. The harder she pulled, the harder he clamped down.

"You made a promise!" she shrieked.

Hiccup groaned from below and wheezed out, "It's such a magical moment! I think I shall remember every detail of this forever. Perhaps I'll draw a picture to commemorate this event."

He slowly worked his way up to rest on his knees and reached a hand up to his dragon, which released Camicazi's hands to grab the boy's in his gums, lifting him up to stand. Camicazi instantly staggered away and drew her blades, but made no move to attack or run away. She felt betrayed, scared, angry.

 _He made a promise!_

"You made a promise!"

As he scratched the dragon's muzzle, still hunched over in pain, Hiccup said, "I guess that goes to show I cannot really _control_ dragons. Please understand, he was just making a statement. He's _extremely_ protective of me and you have no _idea_ how much that _hurt_!"

Camicazi opted for just standing there, motionless, staring at them, chewing on what just happened. That dragon demonstrated a certain intelligence and control that went beyond animalistic. He lured her in with a placating appearance, got her to lower her guard by being adorable - something she would never have associated with a dragon - then turned the tables and bared his teeth.

 _Gums... whatever._

"By the way," Hiccup went on, "Technically, the scales I gave you are really from Toothless, not me. He sheds some every now and then, so I collect them and try to find uses for them. C'mon, let's sit by the fire and I'll tell you everything. Ask me any question you want or I'll just talk about metallurgy all day. Yes, that _is_ a threat!"

Hiccup collected the scales Camicazi had dropped and handed them to her. Toothless lay down on his belly near the fire and his rider joined him to lean against the scaly side. The Burglar sat down on the far side of the fire from the males, but occupied her attention by nervously fidgeting with the scales in her hands.

The boy seemed so relaxed leaning up against such a deadly creature. Camicazi couldn't help but ask, "How can you be so relaxed around that dragon? I mean, at any time, he could-"

"Burn me with fire?" Hiccup finished her sentence, dryly. "Tear me to ribbons, bite off my head, crush every bone in my body? Is that what you're concerned about?"

Camicazi slowly nodded.

"Remember what I said earlier with the sword? I don't care if someone has the _ability_ to cause harm. It's the intent that actually matters. I felt calm when you had the sword pressed against my neck because I trust you _that_ much. We've played together whenever we could since the day we could walk and I know you would never hurt me."

The dragon grunted.

"Above the waist, at least," the boy corrected with a grin.

He then went on to tell about his adventures with Toothless. He talked about building the saddle and tail fin, fighting a giant dragon-controlling dragon, called the Red Death, that was the cause of all raids, the dragons' love of wild mint grass, their hatred for eels, and how dragon manure made a wonderful composting material. He made sure to tell her that he cannot promise that any Bog Burglars would become a dragon rider, but did express his interest in helping Camicazi find a dragon who would want to bond with her.

At one point, Toothless walked over to the pond to drink some water. The two Vikings were startled by a loud splash, followed by the dragon wading out, shaking himself dry with a fish in his mouth and a proud look on his face.

Hiccup chuckled and said, "Yeah, Toothless has his own way of catching fish, but I think I'll stick with your spears."

Camicazi took particular interest in his talk about the saddle he had mentioned earlier, which wasn't on the dragon's back at this time. "So, you ride him?"

"Well, he's not a horse. But yes, I ride him. He needs me to operate his tail fin. Otherwise, he can't control his flight. Speaking of which..."

The dragon curled his tail around, placing it over Hiccup's lap, allowing the boy to pull on a small iron rod with a hook at the end that protruded out of the front of the tailfin attachment. A click could be heard from the fin, which collapsed in on itself. Hiccup then freed an end of a narrow leather lace that was fastened at the rear of the tail fin and attached it to the trailing spar, securing the fin in the folded position.

"I recently modified his tailfin so it can stay locked extended like that," he casually explained. "It's enough for Toothless to fly around without me, but nowhere near as good as when I'm on his back and operating it. He likes to have the fin folded up when he's on land, though, so it's not so bulky and in the way.

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place for Camicazi. That would explain how this dragon could be a so-called equal, but still can be counted on to behave for his rider. Some slave owners have been known to cut off a slave's lower leg - just like Hiccup's leg - and would allow the slave to use the peg leg only when they're doing work in a confined area. Otherwise, the owner keeps the prosthetic so the slave cannot simply run away. They could even secure just the peg leg to a chain to keep the slave contained out in the open. Without the leg, the slave can be safely freed from any constraints as he cannot go far or fast.

Camicazi proudly declared, "Oh, I see. To make sure your dragons don't abandon you, you cripple them by cutting off some fin so they require you on their backs to fly far enough to escape. Clever. I'm actually impressed."

Hiccup turned red and Toothless gagged. "What?! Nooo no no no noooo, you have it all wrong! We don't do that! Don't think for a moment that I tore off his tail fin – well, uhhh. Alright, listen. I was trying to dodge around telling other people about this. It's kinda personal. He got shot down in a raid because back then, dragons killed Vikings and Vikings killed dragons. That was the way life went on Berk. But I found him, we became friends, and, because of Toothless, we now have peace between Berk and the dragons.

The dragon bunted his muzzle against his rider's shoulder. Hiccup stole a glance and smiled.

"And I may have played a part in all that, too."

Hiccup continued to talk about Toothless, the dragons on Berk, why dragon raids ended a couple years ago, possible relationships between Vikings and Dragons, and benefits and liabilities of being a dragon's companion.

At one point, he took off his prosthetic leg and tossed it over to Camicazi, pointing out some interesting design challenges, like the spikes on the bottom for traction on hard surfaces, the spring to absorb shocks, and the shape of the foot to fit into the stirrup that controls the tail fin.

The Burglar had the brilliant idea of jumping up and running off with the leg, waving it tauntingly in the air. Hiccup stood up on his one good leg and gave a dramatic sigh as Toothless dove under from behind, scooping him up on the scaly muzzle so he'd drop down on the dragon's back.

The girl's jaw dropped at the sight of two evil smirks and Hiccup shouted over to her, "Prepare to get completely drenched in slobber. It smells and tastes like fish."

Then, two heads drooped in disappointment when she tossed the prosthetic leg to Hiccup and crossed her arms with a cross look on her face.

As Hiccup talked about the staged "dragon attack" when Dagur went to Berk to sign the peace treaty, he and his dragon played out the scene. Hiccup was laid on his back, right arm raised defensively with an imaginary shield over braced against his forearm. Toothless was standing above him with his paw pressing down on Hiccup's imaginary shield.

"And Dad was pulling on Toothless' tail because that is _totally_ the best way to defend yourself against a dragon." Hiccup rolled his eyes at that last part. "And I was like 'Go, Dagur! Save yourself! You owe it to your people!'"

As the dragon and Viking disentangled, laughing, Hiccup stood up and casually said, "And, _somehow_ , that worked. Let's just say that Toothless' acting abilities have improved _greatly_ ever since- MMMMMPHHHH!"

A large, wet tongue indicated the dragon's interest in hearing about his acting skills that day - again.

Hiccup wiped the saliva off his face and offered a hand.

"C'mon, Cami, we should get back to the village."

The girl accepted the outstretched hand and asked, hopefully, "Oh! Can we ride Toothless to town?"

Hiccup chuckled, but shook his head. "Nah, you know how much you panicked when you saw Toothless for the first time. And this is _you_ we're talking about. Imagine if your entire tribe saw him. He'll just join Hookfang on a nearby island and meet up with us tomorrow. Now, maybe," he shot her a mischievous grin, "If you can find some way to get your tribe warmed up to the idea of petting dragons instead of chopping them up..."

Camicazi grinned at the thought.

Hiccup went on. "I've noticed children seem to be a lot more at ease around dragons than adults. We can introduce Toothless to them first... but you know your tribe better than me. I'll follow your lead, Cami."

Toothless walked up to his rider and curled his tail around so Hiccup could release the strap that held the fin down. The dragon then flicked his tail and it locked into place to the satisfaction of both dragon and inventor. Toothless gave a lick to his rider's face and bunted his nose against Camicazi's chest to receive a hug around his maw before taking off.

They walked back to the village in thoughtful silence. The sun had set and the sky was starting to darken when they finally got there.

Camicazi looked over at Hiccup. "Thanks for showing me your dragon. It gives me a lot to think about."

Hiccup smiled. "Sure thing." Then, he said with dry sarcasm, "And thank _you_ for not kicking me in the nuts a _second_ time."

The Burglar laughed as she shoved an elbow into the boy's shoulder. "You deserved it!"

"Aww, I dunno about that. Considering my other idea that Toothless rejected, which was to swoop down on his back and pluck you up in his paws, I'd say that was a fairly gentle introduction."

"Yeah, that would have earned you a much more severe response from me."

Hiccup chuckled. "His acting skills really _are_ getting better, though. That was a pretty convincing display when you first saw him and he acted as if you scared him to death, wasn't- OOF!"

Hiccup grunted as a fist lightly impacted his kidney.

"Let's get some bread and mead. I wanna tell Ma how awesome dragons are and how I'm gonna be the first Bog Burglar dragon-riding thief!"

Hiccup dragged a hand across his face and said in sarcastic dismay, "Oh, great."

########

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########

Hiccup and Camicazi returned to the cove the next day in the early afternoon. Camicazi had agreed to keep quiet about Toothless for the moment, but one thing they wanted to accomplish at the cove was to figure out how to introduce the dragon to other Bog-Burglars, perhaps even the chiefess, Big Bertha.

However, time was running out. Stoick and the other Hooligans would be sailing back home tomorrow at noon, so Hiccup had to make his move before then, if at all. Of course, he did have Toothless to take him back home without the ship, but Stoick was very adamant that Toothless would not go near the village or be near any other Burglars without his approval beforehand. Camicazi suggested to Hiccup that he could just stay regardless, but the boy insisted that he would not go against his father's orders, which included sailing off with the old man and keeping the dragon undetected if introductions did not go well.

Apparently, Hiccup actually did have a certain sort of loyalty to obey his father and chief. Camicazi thought it was an interesting dance on thin ice between an awkward father who was stuck in the past and a son who could fly and spew out fire - in a manner of speaking. Camicazi could see that Toothless wasn't "just a pet", but the dragon was very loyal to his rider.

Still, even if Hiccup couldn't come up with some plan his father would approve, Camicazi was eager to learn all she could about dragons. It would be an advantage to be the one-and-only Bog-Burglar with such expertise about these powerful creatures. Hiccup was happy to just have some sort of eager audience to teach and Camicazi planned on taking full advantage of that.

While they were collecting firewood, Toothless glided in using his new and improved tail fin. Camicazi tensed for a moment on seeing the Night Fury, but visibly relaxed after watching the dragon and his rider chase each other around the cove, which, of course, devolved into Toothless tackling Hiccup and licking him mercilessly.

Hiccup explained that his dragon did not enjoy flying with only partial control, having a fixed fin, so after they finished gathering wood, he saddled his dragon and left Camicazi to build the fire while the two went hunting together.

By the time the flames were well-established, the duo glided in with a buck hanging limp in the dragon's front claws. It didn't take long at all for the two Vikings and dragon to field dress and skin the animal. Camicazi couldn't get over how Toothless would simply lay there, holding the carcass steady or rolling it over for them. He was not hungrily devouring it, just licking the blood that dribbled out of the cuts while they field dressed and skinned it, which Hiccup insisted only "enhanced" the flavor.

After slicing off some steaks for themselves, the Night Fury took the rest of the carcass a little distance away from the Vikings to enjoy it for himself. Hiccup folded the deer pelt a few times and used a stone to weigh it down in the stream, keeping it submerged in water to preserve it until it could be properly processed. As he returned to the campfire where Camicazi was sitting, Toothless walked over to the Vikings and nudged his rider, prompting some scratches on his snout.

"Well, of course, it's yours. You did all the work," Hiccup casually said, causing Camicazi to raise an eyebrow at this strange, one-sided conversation. "Ummm, oh, good point."

Turning to his friend, Hiccup asked, "Cami, would you mind sharing this cove with a Monstrous Nightmare? He's Snotlout's dragon. I can assure you he's friendly, though not as sociable as Toothless."

Camicazi agreed, but then just stared in fascination as she saw Toothless, eyes closed in concentration, raise a ridge of flaps crowning his head, vibrating and twitching them. She had always assumed they were earlobes, but the pulsating and almost hypnotic motion was a bit creepy.

"What's he doing, there?"

"Oh," Hiccup responded as if surprised by the question. "Toothless is talking to Hookfang – that's the name of the Monstrous Nightmare. He's telling Hookfang that there's some venison available for him if he wants to join us. There's no way Toothless could finish all that by himself and he just wants to share it."

Camicazi looked around suspiciously, expecting to see the dragon come in from the forest at any moment. "Where is he? Has he been on this island since your ship arrived?"

"Nah. He and Toothless are camped out on Craggy Bluff."

The girl stared in disbelief. "That's _leagues_ away! How can Hookfang hear Toothless over such a distance?"

"Oh, ya, that's something I forgot to mention about dragons. They can talk to each other, but not with words. Instead of talking, they project thoughts to each other. While their range is normally no farther than shouting distance, Toothless can use his sensor lobes on his head to greatly increase his range. It's unique to Night Furys, as far as I know, with the exception of the Red Death. I think that must have also used the unspoken words, but in some other way to control the dragons."

"Unspoken... words... project thought. You mean dragons are telepathic?"

Hiccup scratched his head in confusion. "... What?"

"Telepathic. You mean you've never heard of it and you claim your dragon is telepathic?"

Hiccup slowly shook his head. "...Yes…?"

"I've heard about it mainly through gossip from the mainland," Camicazi explained. "Supposedly, there are shamans or mystics of some sort who can read your mind and plant ideas to manipulate how you behave. Hmmm... if Toothless is telepathic, can he read my mind?"

Camicazi suddenly cast a suspicious look at Toothless, who was back at the deer carcass. The dragon snorted at her and just rolled his eyes.

Hiccup chuckled. "No, Toothless can't do that. Imagine your mind is a pond and your thoughts are the fish. Toothless can only view it from above. The water is too murky and the fish too deep to see. Sometimes, a fish may come near the surface and you can tell _something_ is there, but not in great detail. If you project your thoughts, it's like the fish jumping out of the water where you can see them in detail. You don't even realize it, but you do that every time you speak."

Camicazi was nonplussed. "So, you're saying he knows Norse?"

"No. In fact, all dragons think the very concept of speaking words is silly. If our speech was all they had to go by, then your tone of voice would be all they'd get. I mean, sure, they have incredible memories and can recall the _sound_ of every word they have ever heard, but consider what it would be like to be a dragon. Imagine how amazing it would be if you could convey your raw sensations and impressions!"

Camicazi scratched her head in thought, clearly not catching the bug of excitement from her friend. "I guess it could be advantageous. I could talk with my mouth full… or pass a message to a friend without others knowing... _if_ the others are _not_ telepathic as well."

Hiccup deflated. "Yes, but why even bother with words in the _first_ place? If thoughts are tea leaves, then words are just the tea cloth. Just imagine, Cami! The beauty of a sunset, the feeling of grass turning to mush between your fingers, the thrill you felt when you caught your first fish; words are a pathetic comparison to actually _experiencing_ it."

Camicazi blinked in confusion. "So, you're saying they speak a different language. Oh! We'll call it dragonese!"

The rider pulled at his hair. "There _is_ no language! Alright, let's try this. Toothless once let me experience his memory of one time when he hunted down a grizzly bear in the woods. The thrill of the chase, the way his pulse hammered in his abdomen, the sensation of his claws digging into the dirt with each bound, the primal satisfaction of tackling the animal and twisting around to avoid its claws and teeth, the... the..."

Camicazi allowed her eyes to drift towards the dragon, trying to imagine him fighting a bear. It sent shivers down her spine.

Hiccup suddenly started pacing, arms flailing in an oh-so-Hiccup manner. "The feeling of dominance... the... _satisfaction_ of taking down the bear and tearing through its flesh... it's so... so... Gods! Cami, I just can't even _describe_ it! I'll admit it made me feel very squeamish afterward, but _while_ Toothless shared it with me... I was _there._ I _was_ Toothless! For a moment, I, little Hiccup, was a big, powerful, fire-breathing dragon! It was so... so..."

Camicazi just sat there, staring at him thoughtfully. "Uh... huh... you're starting to scare me. I'll go get a priest to perform some sort of exorcism or something." Then, looking over at the dragon and raising her voice, she said, "Tooooothleeeessss. I command you by the power of the divines to release your hold on Hiccup's mind. Withdraw yourself from his mortal body. Return his spirit to its rightful place. I immmploooore yooooouuu."

Hiccup gave her a scowl. "Cami, _please_! I'm not crazy! Point is, speech is a strange, silly... _novelty_ to a dragon and little more. Sure, they grunt and growl and croon and snort to add emphasis to their projections, but the very notion of verbal speech is nonsense to them and they pay no heed. However, hearing a dragon's projections is just so... _amazing_!"

"Ya know, we have this elderly medicine lady who can help you with your insanity."

Hiccup flopped his back to the ground. "I give up! Toothless, eat me now! Just do it!"

There was a stretch of silence. Then, Camicazi slowly said, "So, you're saying you just _happen_ to be a telepath? How convenient."

Hiccup instantly sat up. "Not just me. Everyone! I never even knew it was possible half a year ago. Fishlegs is starting to hear dragons, too. It's not a talent you're born with. It's a skill you learn. My theory is that _anyone_ can learn to hear dragons if they work on it. I've been doing meditations every day for the past several months and it has awakened an ability we _all_ have, but never use. Ya know, like wiggling your ears."

"Wait!" Camicazi raised an eyebrow. "You can wiggle your- Oh, gods, stop! That's so unnatural!"

A soft bark came out of Toothless, who was staring pointedly at the opening in the rock wall that spilled out to the sea. The maroon form of a Monstrous Nightmare could be seen gliding into the cove. He had a dead rabbit dangling from his mouth and did a funny waddling sort of walk, nodded to Hiccup, who was waving at him, then walked over to Toothless.

With all this serious telepathic stuff Hiccup was throwing at her, Camicazi was completely unprepared for what she saw next. The Monstrous Nightmare rose up over Toothless and its torso started convulsing as it made a gagging noise.

Hiccup groaned. "Ugh. Look away, Cami! Save yourself!"

She did not comply, but just stared in awe and disgust. Almost everything about Toothless had been adorable so far. Now, though, it was quite disturbing to see the serene joy displayed as he looked up and opened wide. The Nightmare was... it was actually...

"That Nightmare is... is..."

"Yep," Hiccup said as he looked intently at the campfire. "Hookfang was kind enough to bring some food for Toothless as a way of thanking him for the invite. Probably some fish he snapped up on the way."

"Gross!"

"Yeah."

"I want one now!"

"Fish? I'm sure if you ask _real_ polite, Hookfang would- OW!"

Camicazi gave him a playful swing to the shoulder. "No, a dragon, silly!"

Hiccup grinned over at her. "Get your own."

She returned the grin. "Challenge accepted."

Hiccup suddenly grabbed one of the larger fish from their pile and the hand ax and started walking toward the dragons.

"Hey, guys, could I trade a fish for one of the rabbit's front paws?"

Hookfang looked over at Hiccup and curled his lips up in a very scary looking attempt at a smile through a chunk of venison lodged in his bloody jaws and nodded.

Camicazi joined Hiccup as he walked over to the dragons with a fish in her hand and said, "Trade two for two?"

As Hiccup approached the dragons, Camicazi remained a few paces back, wary that even a tamed animal can still snap at you if you mess with its food. Hiccup grabbed her fish and tossed one at each dragon. They snapped the fish out of the air, gulping it down while the rider laid the rabbit down on a nearby log to lop off its front paws.

The Monstrous Nightmare extended its neck, reaching its snout towards Hiccup, who reached his hand forward to make contact.

"Well," he said to the Nightmare, "A rabbit's foot brings good luck. Sure, there's no meat, but it's definitely worth a fish… ohh, the _entire_ hide? Thanks, pal!"

Camicazi took another brave step forward to get a closer look at Hiccup, who grabbed his knife and quickly skinned the rabbit. It felt awkward to just watch, but there was nothing else to do, so she tried some idle small-talk. "You were really doing that telepathy thing with the dragon?"

"With Hookfang, ya."

"You look like an expert skinner, there."

Hiccup grinned back at her. "I get a lot of practice. Toothless lets me skin most animals he kills before eating. I don't feel it's right to ask that of any other dragon, but Hookfang offered. It's an 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine' sorta system. The dragons see the rabbit fur as an annoyance for the amount of meat. This way, they don't have to eat around the fluff and we get a hide, so we both win from this."

Looking at the Monstrous Nightmare, he asked, "Hey, Hookfang, would you like to introduce yourself to my friend?"

The dragon looked at Camicazi and flicked his head to the side and Hiccup waved her in. "C'mon, Cami. He's a nice dragon. I promise he won't bite."

The Burglar took two more steps to close the gap and nervously reached a hand forward. Hookfang reached his snout forward and pressed it into her palm. The girl inhaled sharply and held her hand to the snout. Again, she felt that strange, formless connection, like peering into the dragon's mind. There was nothing tangible, just sensations. She could feel enough to tell the dragon knew what she had done to his rider the previous night and was not pleased by it.

Hiccup gave her a concerned look.

"You good, Cami?"

Camicazi waved him off with her free hand. It was a lot of fun, really. Snotlout was so easily manipulated, like so many boys. Last night, she approached the ugly sack of meat when he was alone with suggestive clothing and flirtatious gestures. She lured and led him on, tugging at his heartstrings, only to leave him empty and doubled over in pain. The look on his face as he was gasping on the ground in pain and shock at her treatment of his groin was exquisite. The way his eyes widened when she took his own sword out of its scabbard and impaled the ground next to his neck was just so delightful.

 _Never again will Snotlout Jorgenson ever try to make an advance on me._

Hiccup nervously chuckled at the sudden tension between Camicazi and Hookfang. Camicazi saw nothing wrong with it. Snotlout was always mean to Hiccup. He and Thuggory had always played a game to see how many times they could shove Hiccup's face into the mud before an adult would notice. They were just unthinking brutes not even worth the meat they ate.

As Camicazi pulled away from Hookfang, she said, "He deserved it."

The dragon huffed and snapped his teeth, causing her to jump back with an undignified shriek. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"Drama drama drama. C'mon, Cami, let's go feed ourselves."

They left the dragons to their own devices and put the venison steaks on the coals. The sound of crunching bones as the dragons ate was a bit disturbing, but Hiccup assured her she'd get used to it quickly enough. The meat sizzled loudly and Hiccup didn't wait long before flipping them, to Camicazi's approval. Some people like to burn all the flavor out of a steak, but Hiccup had better taste than that.

When he took them off the coals, they were perfect - seared on the outside, red on the inside. He impaled them with a knife to lift them off the bed of coals and they both flicked off any ash that clung to the steaks before setting them down on a wooden plate they had hacked out with the ax and dug in.

"So," Camicazi said between bites. "I've been thinking about how to introduce Toothless to my tribe. I have a foolproof plan that _cannot_ fail."

Hiccup cast her a sly grin. "I'm scared, already!"

* * *

 **A/N:**

So, I did some research on a bit of grammar and now my brain hurts. You lie down today, but lay down yesterday. You lay yourself down today, but laid yourself down yesterday. Grammar is weird!


	15. Exposed

**15 - Exposed**

It was so simple. So brilliant. So devious. So... Camicazi!

Hiccup practically danced with anticipation. Hidden in the seclusion of the woods at the edge of the village with only the dim, pale light of the crescent moon to see by, he and his dragon may as well have been invisible. Toothless, the unseen sentinel, occasionally twitched his sensor lobes, feeling for the passive hum of anyone nearby.

Finally, someone started walking their way. Not just one person, but a small crowd. Camicazi herded her brilliant plan toward them.

The rider rested his hand on his dragon's neck and the duo scanned the crowd of approaching Bog-Burglars through a single pair of large, green eyes.

 _Good, just kids. Eight of them, maybe ages 4-15. And all girls... welcome to Bog-Burglar Island._

Hiccup waved to Camicazi while Toothless crouched down in the ferns, melting into the darkness. The Hooligans and Burglars had a pretty good relationship, so there was a celebration to see off their friendly tribe that would be sailing out tomorrow morning. This had given Camicazi the perfect excuse to take some kids into the forest under the guise of collecting firewood for their own bonfire in the village square.

As they came near, Hiccup could hear his friend's voice.

"I saw some good sticks and logs over here. We're almost to that downed tree I talked about, earlier. We've got some help, too. This is Hiccup. He came in from Berk with the others. And our other help is... somewhere..."

Camicazi looked around. The dark mass of the dragon's head rising off the ground to clear the ferns made her shriek.

Shaking a finger at the dragon, she hissed, "Don't scare me like that, Toothless!"

The other girls screamed and backed up, torn between staying with Camicazi and running away from the dragon.

"It's alright," Camicazi quickly said as she took a step to stand next to the dragon's head. She held out a hand and Toothless sniffed at it, pressing his snout to receive some scratches.

"He's friendly," she continued, encouragingly. "Come say hi to my friend, Toothless. Hiccup flew here from Berk on the dragon's back. C'mon, Gretta, you've always said you wanted to pet a dragon. Here's your chance!"

A little girl, maybe ten years old, said, "But dragons kill people, Cami. I don't want to die."

Camicazi casually leaned on the dragon's snout. "Is this dragon killing me?"

"I guess not."

"C'mon, Gretta. Tomorrow, they will be gone and you will never ever pet a dragon. Is that what you want?"

Gretta paused for a moment. "I guess not."

She took an uncertain step from the huddle, then another, but stopped in fear, looking back to her peers, who were whispering among themselves.

"What's she doing?"

"Cami has gone crazy."

"That's a dragon! Gretta, don't go near it!"

"Cami's a dragon tamer? Dagur's gonna marry her."

"And then she'll probably _kill_ him!"

Despite the rampant fear, a couple tittered at that.

"Gretta, you're either very brave or very stupid."

"Probably both!"

Camicazi crouched down by the dragon's head and reached out to Gretta with her other hand resting on the dragon's snout.

"C'mon, Gretta. I promise he won't bite you. This is your chance to pet a dragon. Don't think you'll ever get another."

The little girl reached out an uncertain hand, which Camicazi gently grasped, slowly guiding it toward Toothless. The dragon casually sniffed, causing the girl to jump in fright.

Camicazi smiled as she encouraged the child again in a soothing, sing-song voice. "C'mon, Gretta. It's alright. He just wanted to sniff your hand. It's how a dragon gets to know you. He can recognize you in the future by your scent."

"You promise it won't bite me?"

"I promise."

This time, Camicazi let Gretta reach her hand forward by herself. With a gasp, she touched the scaly snout and let out a squeal of delight. Camicazi showed her by example how to scratch the Night Fury's head. Toothless leaned into the little girl's hand and purred, causing her to giggle uncontrollably. With jealousy starting to take over, the other girls started to approach the dragon, one by one, reaching out tentative hands to touch him. Hiccup almost collapsed with how relieved he felt at how well things were going.

"Is it really... purring?

"Such a nice dragon, yes you are!"

"Can I have one?"

"I think he likes my petting the best!"

"I want mine to be red."

"It really _is_ purring."

Pretty soon, Hiccup was showing them all of Toothless' favorite spots to be pet, scratched, and rubbed. After no time at all, the dragon was on his side, receiving belly rubs with his tongue hanging out, hind leg twitching in the air. Hiccup could feel waves of joy coming from him.

All too soon, a stern, deep, female voice could be heard approaching them, shouting, "Hey, what's taking so long, kids? You don't need to clear the whole forest!"

Toothless gently rolled over on all fours, careful not to crush anyone, and dashed off, disappearing into the dark forest.

Camicazi walked over to the approaching adult. "Hi, Martha. Sorry, we got a little distracted."

Then, turning back to the kids, "Let's get a few more sticks and head back."

The girls just stared longingly at where the dragon had disappeared, now long out of sight, and started complaining.

"But I wanna pet Toothless some more."

"I think Toothless liked my petting the best!"

"Why did he leave so suddenly?"

"Martha, Martha, there was a dragon, and we pet him, and he purred and licked me, and his name is Toothless, and his tongue was all wet!"

"He nibbled on my fingers, but he had no teeth and it felt funny.

Martha held a level stare at Camicazi and Hiccup. "What's this talk about a dragon, girl? You're supposed to be getting firewood."

Camicazi shrugged. "You know how kids can be. I dunno what they're going on about. To be honest, I think Gretta is lost in the deep with fantasies of petting a dragon. I know I went through that phase as a child, but… this..."

Eight pairs of eyes turned to Camicazi with shock, betrayal, and disappointment written all over their faces. Their voices loudly spilled out in an indignant and undecipherable mess about what they saw and did and how Camicazi is lying and there really was a dragon and...

Martha just rolled her eyes and shooed all of them back to the village, muttering under her breath something about the darkness playing tricks on their eyes.

Hiccup and Camicazi exchanged wide grins. Everything was going _exactly_ according to plan.

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"Where is it?"

A rough, basso voice drew Hiccup's attention from his plate of food. He looked up to see a figure - a very large and heavily muscled figure - in a blue dress with elegant, flowing gold highlights. It was a common style of the Bog-Burglars in this season that contrasted with the simple, more durable clothing with earth tones the Hooligans wore. More than likely, it was the style that happened to be in fashion when it was stolen.

Hiccup smiled at Big Bertha, mother to Camicazi and chiefess of the Bog-Burglar tribe, as she leaned menacingly over the table to tower over him. Some of her brown hair, flowing freely over her shoulders and hanging down almost to the table, threatened to encroach on the fruit and eggs on his plate. Already, the din of chatter in the mess hall was toned down from when Bertha exploded through the doors.

The rider blinked with feigned ignorance. "Where is what, ma'am?"

Bertha glowered. "Toothless. That dragon. Where is it?"

"Ta-ta-ta-Toothless? I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't know what you're talking about. If there is a dragon on your island, you should talk to my father. He is a very experienced and capable dragon slayer. They say that way back when he was a child, before he even learned to walk, he popped a dragon's head-"

"Don't even think that I can't read you, boy!" Bertha slammed a fist on the table, causing everything to jump. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. Gretta and Gerd won't stop talking about it. Toothless licked me. I sat on Toothless' head. Toothless gave me a ride. Toothless purrs when I pet him. Toothless ate my roll. Toothless put his paw in his mouth and it was funny."

She narrowed her eyes and said, "You've got a lot of explaining to do, _dragon master_!"

The hall instantly became absolutely silent. Every eye shifted toward one table in particular. Off in a corner, a cat meowed.

Hiccup really didn't like that title, but he schooled his face and raised his eyebrows in feigned shock. "Dragon… master? I'm nobody's master, Ma'am. I'm sorry, but I know nothing about this… dragon pony that gives rides to children-"

Camicazi snorted and choked on her drink. A fleck of egg shot out of her nose at the "dragon pony" comment. She buried her face in her mug as she hacked out the liquid. Hiccup kept a straight face. Spending fifteen years as the clumsy weakling in a village full of proud dragon slayers and their arrogant children forced him to learn a lot of self-control in order to survive.

Spending two years constantly shadowed by the offspring of lightning and death hasn't eroded such self-control too much. Yet.

Pretending nothing happened, Hiccup continued, "But I, however, would be very interested in riding this dragon pony for myself. Let's both go ask Gretta and Gerd where they found it."

The hacking started to subside, but Camicazi kept her face buried in the mug.

Bertha shook a fist at the diminutive boy sitting across the table. "Don't play with me, boy, or I _will_ flatten you. I don't care if you're Stoick's heir. Show. Me. Your. Dragon!"

Hiccup didn't doubt for a moment that Bertha would do just that. She was tall, broad, strong, and prideful. However, curiosity was both his greatest strength and worst liability. He was wondering how much further he could go with this charade before things got physical.

" _My_ dragon? I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't own this dragon pony." Hiccup held a hand up in oath, saying, "I can assure you that I have never owned a dragon, nor have I ever made a dragon give rides to little girls."

 _It's true. I don't_ own _a friend and I didn't_ make _Toothless give rides. That was by his own free will._

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Camicazi, her face now out of her mug, hunched over her plate as she shoveled food into her mouth. It was almost enough to conceal her suppressed shudders of laughter. Big Bertha grabbed the half-eaten apple from Hiccup's plate and chucked it at Camicazi, but she dodged it.

The large woman just crossed her arms and glowered at Hiccup. "You're not fooling me one bit, ya scrawny runt! Tell ya what. I'll be _real_ nice and count to five before things get ugly."

"And even if there _is_ a dragon," Hiccup droned on.

"One..."

"I don't think it's fair to assume that it's-"

"Two..."

 _"MY_ dragon. I mean, maybe it's Cami's-"

"Three..."

"Why do _I_ get all the suspicion?"

"Four..."

Hiccup smiled. "Alright, let's say I _am_ a friend of a dragon and this dragon may or may not be on your island. I'm sorry if he's been disturbing your people. I'll go find him and make sure he stays out of trouble. I apologize for anything he's done here and I _will_ make amends for any damage he has caused."

Camicazi sniggered at Hiccup's side. Big Bertha just glared at them both.

"You're not leaving until I see your dragon. I _knew_ you could control them! Dagur was right about-"

The report of wood striking wood sounded out as Hiccup's chair clattered against the floor in the suddenly silent hall. He stood there, leaning forward, hands braced on the table. There was an absolute stillness that seemed to feed the fire in Hiccup's eyes as he glared up angrily at Bertha.

"Let me make one thing clear. I do NOT! _CONTROL_! DRAGONS! Dagur is a lying, manipulative tyrant. If you know what's best for your tribe, you would avoid any interactions with him at all costs."

Bertha actually seemed to relax at this sudden outburst. She smiled and said, "I'll agree with you there, but don't insult me, boy. You really think I would grovel at his feet for a far-fetched promise of power? Just show me your dragon."

The young Viking straightened, taking a few deep breaths to regain his composure, and said, "Alright, fair's fair. I will gladly show you Toothless. I will also show you and everybody else in your tribe all I know about dragons – how to befriend them and how to deal with angry dragons in a way that not only does not harm them, but also minimizes damage and harm to your village and tribe. You can accomplish a lot more by making a dragon into a friend than a corpse."

Big Bertha held a calculating stare. Hiccup sucked in a deep breath.

"I have one condition, ma'am."

"I'm listening."

"Well, two, actually. First, I don't like being called 'Dragon Master'. 'Dragon Friend' or 'Dragon Whisperer' or 'Dragon Ambassador' all work for me. Some even call me Hiccup."

"And the other condition?"

Camicazi suddenly slipped out of the mess hall.

Hiccup said, "I will accept all responsibility for everything Toothless does and all consequences of _his_ actions will be on _my_ head. But you and the rest of your villagers will not raise a weapon against him. I can assure you that he will not attack anybody."

Bertha considered this for a moment. "Deal, but if he attacks anyone, he's free game - and so are you."

Hiccup nodded.

Bertha asked, "When can you bring it by?"

"Him. Toothless is a he, not an it. I'll go outside right now and call him right now."

"Your dragon is nearby... on this island?"

"Yes. He flew off to sleep overnight on a tall sea stack nearby, but should be hiding out in the woods by now."

As the boy walked out with the Bog-Burglar chiefess, he was tempted to invite everyone else in the hall to join, but that was quite unnecessary. Breaking out into the sunshine outside, he spotted his father, who was trading some seal skins and yak hides for some interesting looking swords that the Bog-Burglars probably... acquired... from ships they plundered on the seas. Hiccup called out to his father.

"Good morning, Dad."

"'Mornin, son."

"Moment of truth."

"Head in the dragon's mouth?"

"Nah. That would just be disgusting!"

"Hiccup..."

"Really, Dad. I think you'll be impressed. I took care of the dragon's teeth."

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

"Think I'll join the show, then."

Bertha looked back and forth between Hiccup and his father, clearly unsettled about what was obviously code talk between the two, but Hiccup just kept on walking along toward the treeline of the forest, idly whistling a tune. Stoick hastily handed his hides off to Ack, nearby, and set into fastening a new sword with scabbard to his waist.

As he started to follow his heir, he shouted over his shoulder, "I'm eyeing that halberd, Martha. Be back soon."

As Hiccup walked onward, Bertha in tow and full of uncertainty, an entourage of female Bog-Burglars and several Hooligans fell in behind to see what was going on. The rider cupped his hands called out.

"TOOOOOTHLEEEESSSS!"

A moment later, a black form emerged from the trees, flanked by Camicazi.

"Toothless won't let me ride him," she shouted over to Hiccup.

Bertha stared at the dragon and her heiress in disbelief and bellowed, "Cami, get away from that thing, now!"

Camicazi shouted back, "Don't worry, Ma. He won't hurt me."

"Cami! NOW!"

Camicazi just shook her head slowly. "Please, Ma, trust me. I'm not in any danger."

"Cami, you WILL come here NOW or I'll slap you so hard your head will fall off!"

However, Camicazi wouldn't move from the dragon's side. This was part of their plan - at her own insistence - to help ward off any immediate aggression. There were about 10 paces between the dragon and the crowd when they stopped approaching each other. Dragon and Burglars did not feel comfortable getting any closer as they didn't trust each other not to attack.

Little Gretta ran forth from the crowd, shouting, "Toothless! You're so much prettier in the daytime!"

As she practically leaped onto the dragon's snout with a big hug and a giggle, someone shouted, "Gretta, get away from that thing! It's dangerous!"

Hiccup suddenly noticed that many of the women were holding spears, swords, and bows at the ready. However, the two girls clinging to the dragon prevented them from taking any action. Nobody felt confident enough to approach with a sword or ax and they would not trust a projectile to avoid the girls.

Stoick came up and clapped his son on the shoulder, saying, "You're right about the dragon's mouth. Well played, son!"

Bertha was glowering at Hiccup and his father at that comment, obviously uncomfortable with how things were playing out.

Hiccup glanced up at Bertha. "This is why Cami was so insistent that she stays with Toothless. Have I not been true to my word? Toothless has been very calm and peaceful, unlike your fellow tribe members. Remember the deal we made."

Bertha nodded. "You promise it won't hurt anyone?"

" _He_. Toothless is not an it."

"Hiccup!" Both Stoick and Bertha shouted at the same time. They shared a surprised look.

Hiccup sighed. "I swear on my life. Cami and Gretta are a testament to my claim."

Bertha nodded and shouted, "Weapons down, but keep 'em handy."

Swords were sheathed, bows lowered to the hips, and the butt-end of spears were dropped against the ground. However, hands still rested on sword pommels and around bows and spears.

"Good enough, I guess," Hiccup muttered under his breath as he strode over to his dragon.

As he approached, Camicazi was glaring at the Night Fury - who was now carrying Gretta on his back - with arms folded, apparently upset at the dragon.

"Really, Tooth?" she demanded, sternly. "You're gonna let _her_ ride you, but not me?"

Hiccup sidled up next to his dragon's head, giving some scratches. "Well, Cami, you _did_ kick his rider between the legs. Hey, Bud, you didn't actually _fly_ when you gave the girls a ride, right?"

Toothless rolled his eyes in a what-do-you-think sort of way.

By now, there was a lot of chatter from the group gathered apart from the dragon. Hiccup looked over and called out to them. "Well, do any of you want to meet Toothless? I promise he won't bite. He's really nice as long as you don't start swinging weapons at him. Oh, and he really loves fish."

Big Bertha just stood there, arms crossed, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. However, some of the other girls from last night ran over to the dragon, giving scratches, giggling at the purring, and Toothless even retracted his teeth to playfully gnaw on one of the girl's hands with his toothless gums, drawing out a squealing giggle.

A couple other young women in their late teens also cautiously approached the dragon, succumbing to the jealousy of others petting him without them. Hiccup gently guided their hands to the dragon, who sniffed at them and allowed them to touch his snout to receive some more scratches.

"Oh, look," One of the older girls saying as she gave Toothless a belly rub. "It's a girl!"

Rider and dragon groaned in unison as Hiccup dryly stated, "No, he's a boy. It's just like with fish; He's more aerodynamic because-"

The rider blinked, suddenly realizing what exactly he was talking about and started to sound irritated. "Wait, _why_ are we even _talking_ about this? Girls are so weird! If you are really so interested in his hindquarters, he would enjoy some massaging on his haunches. _SOMEBODY_ was trying to impress Camicazi by leaping straight up into the air and pulled a muscle- Ah! Toothless! Ewwww!"

 _Somebody_ decided his rider needed dragon tongue therapy.

After wiping an inordinate amount of slobber off his face, Hiccup put his hand on the dragon's snout to talk with him. Toothless assured his rider that he sensed no ill will from the younger Burglars currently on and near him and that the massaging on his haunches was indeed exquisitely marvelous. Content that his dragon, now melting into a puddle of bliss, was safe, Hiccup walked back over to Bertha and the group of Bog-Burglars, stumbling occasionally as he used his tunic to wipe any last remnants of dragon saliva off his face.

"Well, ma'am, I think we can say I've shown you my dragon. I would be happy to spend some time telling you all I know about them and how you can deal with the ones in your area."

Bertha looked uncertain, but a little more accepting at least, with the sight of the dragon sprawled out under a pile of girls.

"Yes, that sounds good, but your ship's scheduled to leave pretty soon."

Hiccup chuckled and said, "Well, Toothless _is_ a dragon... who can fly..." The rider cast a quick glance at his father to see a subtle nod. "I could stay for a few days and still beat them home."

The winds would be less than favorable for sailing back to Berk. The ship would have to tack back and forth with the wind hitting the sail at an oblique angle. They would likely even have to row a good distance, which would take a while, too. A two day trip to Bog-Burglar Island would probably require five or six days to get back home.

On the other hand, Toothless can handle a headwind much more gracefully than a ship. He can always manage the wind in such a way that, no matter which way it's blowing, it's always to his advantage. It's dragon magic!

Bertha smiled. "Alright, boy, you tell me what you know and I'll make it worth your time. I may even give you my daughter as a wife if we end up with riders of-"

"I'LL CASTRATE HIM!"

Hiccup nervously chuckled.

"Let's just stick to my area of expertise."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading!

I'd like to give a special thanks to Anhedral for taking the time to write such a detailed review. You make me very glad I kept chapter 8 and gave me a lot to think about. Also, thanks for the reading assignment. I'll have to check out the Nighthorse books.


	16. Occupied

**16 - Occupied**

Black wings beat a rhythm through the night as Toothless and his rider, Firefly, made their way home. Both were lost in their own thoughts as they enjoyed the beautiful view of the scenery. Above, the half moon cast a comforting glow, surrounded by uncountable twinkling stars. Below, an expansive field of clouds stretched out below like a bright, wide, lumpy plain of freshly fallen snow.

They have been fighting a headwind ever since taking off yesterday, so progress was slower than normal. However, after eating a bunch of fish and sleeping until night to resume their usual nocturnal habits, flying became easier. Flying at night was so much better than the day, especially an unusually warm day that forced Toothless to dunk himself in the ocean to cool off a couple times to avoid overheating.

Toothless had come to one important conclusion about those females on that island they had visited for several days: those are some of the most wonderful land-striders in the world! The way they would rub his belly and scratch him under the chin would make his mind melt. Initially, they were very timid, but by observing their reactions, Toothless found the perfect way to widen his eyes, the most charming curl to his lips to reveal a toothless smile, the best arch to his back to look like an adorable feline, and the most irresistibly adorable way to lay belly-up and paw at a wet hide hung up to dry.

It started with the hatchlings and younger land-striders, but even the older ones joined in. With a single gesture, Toothless could break down their barriers of fear and trepidation. On his command, they would throw all caution to the wind and dive in to give him the most wonderful belly rubs. He would just relax every muscle in his body and melt into a big black panting puddle. The threat of fiery retaliation if they tried to attack him, combined with the allure of befriending dragons, was enough to make them very peaceful. They were a lot more open-minded and willing to accept allies than Firefly's people were at first and Toothless took full advantage of that.

Of course, the flying duo couldn't stop themselves from doing some stunts in the air, which made the young females want to massage the dragon even more. Once Firefly showed them how to work the tension out of his muscles, Toothless would just dive right into a crowd of them after a flight, roll onto his back to present his belly and flanks, and lose himself in bliss and purring and warbling and licking. He wished he could have stayed there forever!

On their last day, they even managed to help those land-striders befriend some dragons. Well, _one_ land-strider, at least. That was actually what delayed them in returning home. They were with that friend of Firefly, whose land-strider name was something like "Self-Sacrifice". Toothless ended up just naming her Troublemaker as that really fit what she did every day. They discovered the presence of some mink dragons on the island, or terrors that are terrible, as the land-striders called them.

One of them was badly injured. Aside from a gash along his flank, the main support bone for his left wing was snapped and his right foreleg was also broken. Initially, they were very distrustful and full of fire and hissing and warnings. However, Firefly and Toothless were able to win their trust. Well, maybe it was the fish offering that won their trust. It was a close call.

The injured one was quite immobile and in great pain. The mink dragon trio was trying to decide if it would be merciful to just give him a quick death. A dragon that couldn't fly would quickly go mad. Walking was next to impossible with a broken leg and a broken wing dragging along. Troublemaker really wanted to help. She delicately inspected the injuries, heedless of the teeth snapping in agitation. In fact, she even put her hand in the injured dragon's mouth as a show of trust before asking him to trust her.

Toothless and Firefly flew to the land-strider nest to grab some supplies while Troublemaker remained behind. On returning, they used sticks and slender vines to provide support for the broken bones so the injured dragon could at least limp around relatively pain-free. It would be good enough for now, but Firefly was convinced the dragon needed more help than was available on that island. The land-striders back home had developed in their abilities to help dragons heal from injuries and could provide better assistance. He convinced the injured mink dragon, ignoring Toothless' objections, to ride home with them.

The other mink dragons, a male and a female, actually took a liking to Troublemaker. Smoke practically poured out of her nostrils as she contemplated what she could do with her new friends. It had something to do with playing games that involved stealing the most valuable shiny stones. Convincing them to play such a game would be easy. Getting them to _release_ said shiny object, though, would be next to impossible.

That was when Firefly realized they _really_ had to go. He made a promise and his sire, the Beast, would be beside himself with worry if Firefly didn't return soon, fearing the worst from those females. Then, those two flocks of land-striders would probably kill each other and Toothless would feel a little guilty about that.

No amount of belly rubs would make that any better.

As they flew above the clouds on the last wing of their journey, Toothless noticed little fragments of images his rider was projecting. Firefly didn't realize he was projecting and Toothless would normally ignore such chaff, but something about it caught his attention. They were images of the day Toothless was shot down and cut free from the vines that knocked him out of the sky. In this case, though, he was completely unharmed. He had not lost his tail fin and simply flew off, never to be seen again.

Toothless didn't like what he was seeing, so he arched one of his sensor lobes back and gently slapped his rider with a quick twist of his neck. Firefly grumbled and slapped the sensor right back. This would usually start a battle between the two, but neither was in the mood for that at the moment. The dragon pressed his sensor lobe down against his neck, tilting his head up to lean it back toward his rider to show he wanted to say something. Firefly got the hint and pressed his hands against the dragon's neck.

 _{Firefly, you're projecting about that day you shot me down, again. It's in the past and you know I would have given much more than a silly little tail fin to escape that mind snare. You know I feel no resentment and I have no regrets. Either think about something more pleasant or don't think at all.}_

Firefly did his usual, nasally, singsong way of thinking with his lips, but his projected thoughts were well-organized. _{I'm sorry, but I'm not thinking about your tail, this time. I'm thinking about your family that you were a part of before the demonic queen took you. We should go find them. I have never thought about it until recently and you need me to go with you. You have dedicated yourself to providing for me and I need to be more considerate about your needs and wants.}_

Toothless grumbled his annoyance. Ever since he snapped at his rider earlier, during the flight to that island of females, Firefly let the issue go for a while. However, he started stalking and prodding at this and would not take no for an answer.

 _{Firefly, I told you I don't want to talk about it. That has not changed.}_

 _{Is that because your family hates you?}_

 _{I would have no clue what they think of me. They probably assumed me dead a long time ago and who could blame them for that.}_

 _{Do you hate them?}_

The dragon froze for a moment. _{Yes. Perhaps I was at one time curious, but that is gone. I am happy to forget about them. They could all be dead for all I know. Regardless, they are dead to me now.}_

Firefly laughed. _{Liar. I can feel it in your hum. You say that only because you don't want to drag me around to find them, but I really do feel bad knowing I'm hindering you. What_ Troublemaker _said about how you need me to fly anywhere really got me thinking. You weren't able to tell me until I learned to hear you, so I selfishly went about using you as a beast of burden. I am ashamed and I want to make amends.}_

Toothless gave a light reprimanding slap of is sensor lobe against Firefly's face. _{That is not true and you know it, Firefly! You are not selfish and you know I would never tolerate you treating me like that. There's a reason I and the other dragons take on riders. We live boring lives and you land-striders are very interesting creatures. You know this. I have already told you my wings are yours and I have no regrets about that.}_

 _{That's very kind of you, Toothless, but this isolation from the rest of your species bothers you. Don't try to deny it. I'm still coming to terms with being your declared alpha, but even as such, I cannot be content if you are not. I want to give you what you want and you need me to find your family. You know this is something you cannot easily live without.}_

 _{What if what's good for me is bad for you? What if I want to go back to that island of female land-striders right now to receive some more belly rubs from them? What if I never want to leave?}_

Firefly flicked the tailfin, sending them into a left banking turn. Toothless yelped in surprise and fought to stay on course. The injured mink dragon cradled in Firefly's lap whined in confusion.

Toothless grumbled at his rider. _{What are you doing?!}_

 _{I'm taking us back to that island we came from, of course. You said you want to go there and you need me to fly. You can project your thoughts really far, right? Just tell Skullcrusher that we will be delayed for an indeterminable length of time. He can tell Butterfly or Dragon Whisperer to relay the message.}_

Toothless growled at that. Going back now would be a terrible idea and they both knew it. Firefly promised to arrive back home by the next sunrise. Beast had plans for him and it was critical to be dependable as Firefly was working on fixing his reputation to the contrary. If they went back now, Beast would be very disappointed - no, _furious_. Firefly would have to endure the consequences.

Sure, they could fly away and leave that island forever to spare Firefly from such consequences, but that would only crush his heart to be separated from everyone he knew. Toothless would _never_ do that to his rider! He would never be able to enjoy the ministrations of those females knowing his rider was making significant sacrifices.

The dragon voiced his thoughts to his rider. _{I was trying to make a point!}_

 _{Then you failed miserably! It would be a sacrifice for me, but I would do it for you because you're worth it!}_

Toothless slapped his rider again. _{We will not go there and that is final!}_

The tailfin flicked again to keep their course toward home. _{If you say so, Toothless. We'll just go back home, help this mink dragon heal up, and then set off to find your family.}_

Toothless snarled. _{I am no longer curious about them. I no longer care what could be gained by finding them. It is dangerous and you know it. I will not risk losing you! There is nothing more to discuss!}_

He ducked his head down to break contact with the rider's hand. Firefly's breath caught in his throat. It twisted Toothless' gut no less than when he did it the first time, but he needed to make a clear statement.

Firefly sighed. The familiar click of the tail fin locking into its current position could be heard, allowing for stable flight without the rider's intervention until they need to turn or the winds shift. Toothless could hear some clicking from his back and felt his rider rise up to lean forward, staring into the dragon's eyes from above.

 _{What if I command it as your alpha? You said your wings are mine. If I insist, would you deny me?}_

Toothless did not want to respond and focused on silencing his own thoughts. Only now did he realize he had dipped below the clouds and was now flying through fog. How long he was in that fog, he did not know. However, looking down, he saw a small, forested island that he recognized as one of their favorite places to hunt.

They needed to talk snout-to-face.

He angled in for a steep landing, slamming into the ground at the edge of a dense forest, sending up a shower of pine needles and dirt. Firefly unhooked himself and Toothless practically flung him out of the saddle.

Anger boiled up. He reared up on his hind legs, fanned his wings, and glared down at his rider.

What Firefly wanted was incomprehensible. They both knew that finding Toothless' family would be dangerous. Dragons naturally distrust land-striders. They are also naturally violent creatures that fight over any disagreements – Night Furies even more so. When they see a rider on a dragon's back, they will jump to conclusions – violent conclusions. When they hear that it was Firefly who shot the dragon down and is the cause for the missing tailfin, there's no question about whether they would strike before hearing that it was actually a good thing. Firefly knew all this very well.

 _How dare he suggest such a foolish thing so seriously!_

The rider recovered his balance as he hit the ground, gently set the mink dragon down, and stared up into Toothless' eyes in defiance. He seemed to be mildly annoyed by the rough treatment, but completely unaffected by the snarling and gnashing of teeth. Such was the downside to the absolute trust they had in each other.

Firefly just paced back and forth, talking about how they needed to do this. It would be the only way to resolve this nagging on their minds. True, the dragons may respond with hostility, but they could also respect Firefly and Toothless as the ones who defeated the queen, freeing hundreds of dragons from a fate much worse than death.

The most frustrating thing was that Firefly thought he needed to make up for something based on a fantasy that he owed his dragon something. Toothless loved his rider exactly as he was… minus the part about regularly risking his own life for the sake of another. A whole lifetime looked down upon by every other land-strider has conditioned him to believe he always owes somebody something. Toothless has been fighting against such a nature in his rider even before the Dragon Whisperer came along. This was not the first time Firefly suggested that he was acting selfishly and it made Toothless want to just use his tail to slap some sense into his rider.

Toothless tried to convince Firefly otherwise, insisting that there was no greater joy than to fly with him no matter where they went. Firefly was all he ever wanted. The rider was the destination and everything else was just extra fish on the pile. There was no substitute for such companionship and devotion. Well, Toothless had to admit that there would be so much to gain by being around others of his species. What knowledge was lost and what instincts have been eroded in the demonic queen's confinement was anyone's guess. Also, he had matured to the point where the rutting season was really starting to affect him and finding some mate would be nice and…

 _No! Dangerous! Insane!_

To go and seek out such danger by finding the dragons he has never seen since before he even learned to fly, who may or may not be dead and will almost certainly respond to his rider with hostility... The risk far outweighs any reward. It would be reckless. It would be foolish.

It would be a very Firefly thing to do.

 _I will not risk my rider I have fought so hard to protect!_

Toothless retracted his teeth and clamped down hard on Firefly's hand - not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make him wince in pain. This was not the first time he got so aggressive with his rider.

 _{Firefly, I don't care about your reasons. We are not going because it is too risky. You are thinking reckless thoughts. I will not risk losing you!}_

Toothless did not realize the mistake he made until his rider pounced on it. The fact that he was focusing on the danger told his rider that he _knew_ he could find his family if he wanted to. After all, Night Furies could project their thoughts over long distances, which meant they could be found if they chose to be found.

Firefly shook his hand out of the mouth of his dragon, who resumed pacing back and forth and snarling and growling. The rider then stepped forward, unhooked the linkages to the tail fin, and removed the saddle.

As the saddle fell to the ground, dragon's jaw following in like manner, Firefly gave a frustrated snort. _{Maybe I'm just not worthy of your loyalty! I do what is right even if it is dangerous. That is why I cut you loose after I shot you down. That is why I gave a fish to an angry, starving dragon. That is why I_ begged _the other dragons to help me when you were shackled down and taken to the demonic queen's nest. It is not fear that guides me, but my conscience. It's just who I am and if you don't like it, then I shouldn't be your alpha!}_

Toothless was furious. He couldn't even wrap his mind around the fact that his rider was suggesting such a thing. This was insane! _Firefly_ was insane! The most frustrating thing was that Toothless knew he would eventually yield to his rider's desires, having no greater stability to trust in. If he could not convince Firefly that this was folly, then he would willingly deliver Firefly to his likely death simply because the rider wanted it.

 _If we fly there and Firefly gets hurt or killed, I will go insane!_

In the midst of his snarling and pacing, Toothless grabbed his rider's prosthetic leg in his teeth and pulled it off with a quick flick. Firefly stumbled and the dragon sprang from his haunches, slamming his front paw into his rider's chest, pinning him against the trunk of a tree, snarling and roaring in his face.

The injured mink dragon screeched in terror, but Firefly had this frustrating habit of trusting his dragon to such a degree that nothing could phase him. He simply recovered the breath that was knocked out of him from the impact and glared.

Strength suddenly drained out of Toothless. He instantly felt regret. He always trusted his rider to do what was best. Always! To assault and overpower the one creature that gave meaning to a lonely dragon's life was so... _shameful_! This has always been something Firefly was working on with his dragon, controlling the rage. Toothless felt like a failure for treating his own rider - his precious Firefly - like this.

A whine clawed its way out of his throat. This was not play-fighting. This was a display of dominance to make his rider submit. This was malicious coercion. This was evil. Firefly deserved better.

 _How dare I handle my rider this way!_

Already, Toothless was thinking about how he would apologize and appease his rider. He would flatten himself to the ground, he would whimper, he would dig a hole and bury his head in it. Of course, any other creature, dragon or land-strider, would see only fangs and fire. Only Firefly deserved to see his dragon abased. However, the savior of dragons would forgive Toothless so freely and quickly, which would only make it hurt even worse.

Toothless' vision was still swimming with red. He was about to drop his rider to release his rage by tearing up a tree, but felt a scratching sensation at the base of his jaw. Just before his eyes rolled up in a most unwelcome overload of bliss, he saw disappointment in Firefly's eyes and felt it in his thought projections.

It pierced the dragon's heart and tore it to shreds as darkness overtook him.

########

* * *

########

Toothless couldn't believe what he saw as he blinked his way back into reality. He knew he was unconscious for only a moment, but his one-legged rider was held in the grasp of a land-strider with a shiny claw pressed to his throat. Many more surrounded them. A couple land-striders were trying to bind the dragon's maw and legs.

Panic and regret were all that could be seen in Firefly's face and felt in his hum.

Without any hesitation, the offspring of lightning and death flailed at his enemies. An arm found its way into his mouth and blood sprayed out. The other land-strider instantly found himself mashed between sharp claws and dirt.

Toothless gathered gas in his throat while lunging at the next enemy. The pathetic ape was completely unprepared and went sprawling to the ground. Without even taking the time to properly kill it, he lunged at another, taking him by surprise, and shot a fireball at another. In his haste, he missed, but the explosion knocked several of them over as he tackled one and bounced off into another. Toothless would have continued his assault, but he heard a yelp from his rider, who was desperately projecting instructions to his dragon.

 _{Fly home, Toothless. Get help. You cannot fight all of them. You cannot save me if you stay here. If you continue to fight, I die. Trust me!}_

If Firefly's life wasn't in peril, Toothless might have noticed he was actually projecting his thoughts like a dragon instead of thinking with his lips. Firefly had always struggled to do that.

Toothless saw an image projected from Firefly of a shiny claw impaling his throat while his dragon fought these worthless creatures. He froze. The intensity of his rider's insistence could not be ignored, but leaving just felt so wrong.

 _I cannot just_ abandon _him. He needs me! I need him! Oh, why must he be so frail?_

Toothless was snapped back to the present when something started to wrap around his tail. It was some sort of vines and stones snare, but was poorly aimed. One of the stones hit him directly, causing the vines to dangle over his tail. Toothless shook it off, roaring his frustration. Another stone and vines contraption whirled toward him, but he flared his wing and slapped it to the ground. As he crouched to pounce another land-strider, Firefly yelped and a small trickle of blood ran down his neck.

The rider pleaded with an intensity that instantly crushed his dragon's spirit. _{You cannot stay here and fight or we both die! Fly away and get help! I'm_ begging _you to trust me!}_

Before Toothless could think, his haunches were coiled. Before he could question what he was doing, he shot up into the air. Before he realized how loudly he was whimpering, he almost slammed into the ocean and, through some miracle, remembered to flick his tail so the fin would lock open in the neutral position thanks to the recent modifications.

He felt that same sort of internal agony on his first flight with his rider, when they both fell, separated, uncontrolled, tumbling to the ground with no hope of survival, fighting against every instinct to buck and kick. However, if that first flight was a trickle of terror, the pain of flying away was a torrential rush.

As he flew, Toothless reached out with his senses, desperately scratching for any comfort of contact with his rider. His sensor lobes pulsated, finding the optimal positions to receive the faint projections, straining to catch every little whisper. He could detect his rider and a group of land-striders surrounding him, but Firefly seemed to have calmed down. He was wondering how long it took for a broken rib to heal.

Toothless continued to look around with his sensors, as his eyesight was worthless in the fog, and his jaw dropped at what he detected. There was an uncountable number of land-striders behind him and off to the right. They must have been over water, meaning that there must be those land-strider floating vessels. There were far more land-striders than scales on Toothless' body. He had never seen so many at once.

A side wind kicked Toothless off-course and he snapped his attention back to his flight. He roared his frustration as he tried to correct his course with the limited control of the fixed tail fin. The wind was pushing him to roll and bank left, so he had to spin himself so that his right wing dipped down as he pushed his tail up to correct his course. It was a horribly inefficient and uncomfortable way to fly, but it would have to do without his rider to work the fin. Every change in the wind that threatened to throw him off-balance only reflected the turbulence in his mind.

Guilt took over as he realized who, exactly, put Firefly in this situation. It was the dragon, not the rider who forced this discussion to become a fight. It was he who was so wrapped up in his emotions that he didn't even check to see if there was anyone around before landing. It was his own unthinking actions that forced Firefly to knock him unconscious to regain control of the situation.

Toothless beat his wings as hard as he could and just wished the ocean would swallow him up.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** _DUN DUN DUUUUN!_

Have you ever written one of those chapters where you really want to hammer in certain content, but it just does _not_ feel like a good fit? You hum and haw for days as you fiddle with it, but never feel quite satisfied when you post it? I think this curse hits me every four chapters, exactly. On the plus side, if this tempo keeps up, I got only one more cursed chapter coming up.

Alright, response to comments time. I really appreciate the feedback so much!

10Blue10 - Yeah, Hiccup should be really proud of his dragon ambassador skills. Nothing breaks the ice like little children. I was tempted to add some extra drama, but the urge to toss in some warm fuzzies and move on won the day. Besides, I figured that if the Bog-Burglars have bogs, then they'd be a bit far from ground zero of the dragon war and, thus, wouldn't be as hard to sway.

NitroExpress - Yes, I've have read "I Hear Him Scream". Of all the fanfics that turn dragons into Jedi knights or wizards or demigods, it's one of the few I've seen that doesn't invalidate the dialog in the movie, "They've killed _hundreds_ of us!" - "And we've killed _thousands_ of them!" It probably played a part in influencing my take on Stoick (we will see a fair bit of him in the next chapters).


	17. Return

**Return**

For years, Stoick has been working on keeping his son's recklessly impulsive habits in check and was met with varying degrees of failure. However, he had to admit that the way Hiccup handled himself on Bog-Burglar island really was impressive. Granted, the allure of being the dragon ambassador would make him bend over backward, but it seemed he actually did learn a lesson about responsibility and risk management. He really did accomplish a lot more than Stoick would have dared hope for and that was _before_ sailing back home to leave him behind to train the Bog-Burglars some more.

 _Well, sail and row... and row... and row... into the wind..._

Stoick's sides and arms were sore from the voyage he just completed. All that rowing gave him time to ponder something his son had mentioned a few weeks ago. Contrary to Hiccup's pouting, his words never go in one ear and out the other. Rather, they go in one ear and are stored in wine barrels, which are then sealed and moved into a cellar to ferment for an indeterminable amount of time. If these ideas are found to have some worth that deserves the time, manpower, and resources required, then they will have developed a more robust flavor with better character by the time that barrel is opened.

The idea in one of these barrels was looking tastier with each stroke of the oar. A couple months ago, Hiccup had been talking about when he and his dragon were goofing off on a small faering. He said that if the dragon sat in the middle of the boat and extended only one wing out at certain angles, they could sail _into_ a headwind. Well, not directly, but they could allegedly tack into the wind in a way the square sails would not allow. Both wings extended supposedly limited their options, but one wing was supposed to be better.

Hiccup was beside himself with excitement when he explained this to everyone and insisted they all should immediately drop what they were doing and start working on this. Hence, the wine barrel.

Stoick decided that when Hiccup gets back - and he _will_ maintain his promise to be back sometime today if he values his life - he could have some scraps of old, tattered sailcloth and rope lying around. Allowing him his fun of tinkering around with that would keep him out of trouble. It was, more than likely, just silly gibberish, anyway. How could a dragon improve the Viking's systems for sailing? A _dragon_ inventor? Ha!

The chief crested the cliffside ramps and stepped onto the worn dirt path, shrugging the basket of his personal belongings back into the crook of his shoulder. The trip to the Burglars was well worth the time and effort, not just for the improved relations, but also because it taught Hiccup about protecting himself and his beast. The way he thought to get Camicazi to walk alongside the dragon as some sort of body shield against twitchy Burglars with spears was actually impressive. It was what tipped Stoick over the edge to allow him to proceed with that.

Now that they had the Burglars on their side or, at least, seeing more eye-to-eye regarding dragons, Stoick could start to work on other tribes. It was almost too much to hope for, but maybe they can see that _anyone_ can befriend dragons, not just Berk. Maybe the Meatheads or, a more sure bet, the Hysterics. They're always blabbering about how the world is not flat, but round, and Hiccup had mentioned that he can see the horizon curve from high up in the sky. Perhaps that allure of testing their silly theories for themselves on dragon-back would convince a few to be loyal to Berk, then those few would inspire more.

Berk had tried to keep this dragon relationship bottled up for too long and Hiccup did have a good point that to hog all the power is to force everybody else to overthrow you. Berk never considered peace with the dragons from that angle, but "distributing the power" will surely win some neighboring tribes as allies. If they can get a couple dragons to accept a rider, then they would be more loyal towards Berk and a greater asset when a threat does arise. Not that any threat will occur this year, most likely. In only a couple months, the ice will set in, making travel by sea almost impossible. If the enemy hasn't attacked yet, they probably won't until next Spring, so that will buy some time.

The chief's musings were interrupted when a loud loud, frantic screech pierced the air. From the sound of it, this roar clearly was not a standard greeting Berk's dragons bellow out to announce their presence before landing; there was some sort of anger or frustration in that noise. He dropped his basket and his hand drifted towards the pommel of his new bastard sword strapped to his waist.

Just barely within his range of vision, almost invisible against the dim sky that was just starting to lighten in the early dawn, a black form cut through the fog to strike the ground at a steep angle, throwing up a cloud of dust. Running towards it, he recognized the Night Fury casting about in extreme irritation, wings half unfurled, pupils narrowed to slits and rapidly twitching around in their green orbs, tail frantically lashing back and forth.

Stoick tsked. Hiccup should know better than to land without going through the proper procedures and he has always done his best not to cause such a disturbance. People were running about in a panic; some towards the dragon with weapons drawn, others away in fear.

"Calm down, everyone! It's Hiccup and his dragon." Stoick bellowed at the nearby Vikings.

Then, turning back to the duo, he angrily shouted, "What in Thor's name is wrong with you, boy?! Your dragon almost flattened Bucket! Have you lost your mind?! Are you _trying_ to cause so much... chaos..."

His angry diatribe was left to hang as he neared the dragon. Something was off. There was no rider on its back. There wasn't even a saddle. Maybe Hiccup had arrived earlier and unsaddled his dragon, but then why would the dragon be growling and snarling?

"Calm down, dragon," the chief shouted. "Do you have rabies or what?"

The Night Fury ran up to Stoick, sliding to a stop just in front of him, threw its head back, and gave out a loud, sad, moaning sort of roar.

Stoick crossed his arms and waited until he had the dragon's attention. He would be patient and calm the beast... before searching out Hiccup and wringing his neck for sending his dragon to town alone and in such an agitated state. That thing was a liability, sometimes, snapping at people just because it doesn't like the way they _look_ at Hiccup.

"What's wrong, dragon? Where's Hiccup?"

The dragon pressed its nose into the ground and flopped down, rolling over on its back and shifting between groaning and shrieking, as if it was having a seizure.

"Where's Hiccup? Is he in danger?"

the Night Fury quickly jerked to its feet and started running circles around the chief, snarling, shrieking, snapping at him, hopping up on its hind legs to slam back down and thump its wings against the ground, pupils rapidly switching between rounded and slit. The beast appeared to be mentally unstable.

Stoick finally had enough and drew his sword. As expected, the dragon stopped and backed up, hissing and snarling. He was fairly sure it wouldn't actually attack, but at least it wasn't making him dizzy, anymore.

He casually sheathed his sword and said, "Just stop moving, ya scaly devil!" Looking at the crowd of Vikings who started to gather around this scene, he shouted, "Skuf! Tofa! Where are they? Someone find them. I need to know what this dragon knows."

While Stoick asked the Vikings around if they knew where to find the dragon whisperers, the dragon plopped its belly to the ground and started howling. A fresh cloud of dust was kicked up as it writhed around. Something must be very, very wrong to cause this sort of behavior. It was unlike anything he had seen before - far worse than the time Hiccup got a fever and the dragon decided that running around and nipping at people would make him get better. The absence of the boy could only indicate that he was missing or in danger, but if that dragon knew where to find Hiccup, nothing could be accomplished in such a state.

Stoick made a decision to try helping the dragon the same way he'd help any grieving warrior. The wailing was suddenly halted when he struck the dragon hard across the snout with the back of his hand, causing it to stumble to the side. It squared against him, body crouched low to the ground, roaring and snarling. Stoick was unphased. Though not to such a degree, this sort of behavior has been seen before in the Night Fury. It was the drama queen among dragons.

He simply stood there, rubbing his knuckles and glaring at the dragon with annoyance. "Are you going to sit there, whimpering like a lost puppy, or are you going to help me find Hiccup?!"

 _That_ immediately got the Night Fury's attention. It relaxed and dipped its head to the chief, waiting for something... anything.

"Good! Now, Hiccup is in danger, yes?"

A frantic whine was a sufficient answer.

"Is he on this island?"

A shake of the black head answered his question. Stoick still couldn't get used to such human gestures from a dragon. Questioning the beast like it was some person felt awkward, but he pressed on.

"Alright." He turned to the people milling around, curious at the scene. "This dragon needs a saddle. There's one in the training arena. I need someone to go get it and put it on this dragon. Someone else go find Astrid so she can ride it. I know if I tried, I'd break the poor thing's back."

Hoark shouted, "Right!" and took off, but the dragon sprinted after him, knocking him to the side in haste, probably going to get its own saddle.

Stoick scanned the crowd that had gathered around. "I need someone to blow the horn and call the dragon riders."

Two Vikings at the edge of the gathering shouted, "Got it!" and ran off at a sprint for a few steps, then stopped, trying to decide who would run to blow the horn. After a very brief hesitation, before the chief could pick one to just go do it, one of them shouted, "Go! You're faster, anyway," and the other set off at a headlong sprint.

"Right," Stoick said, putting on an unreadable face behind his large, red beard as he addressed the gathering of Vikings around him. "Has anyone seen Hiccup or his Night Fury? Before this incident we just had a moment ago, that is..."

There was no definitive response, but some people mumbled about how they haven't seen the boy and his dragon since he took off to Bog Burglar island. Others voiced some desperate shot-in-the-dark suggestions of where he might be... maybe the cove… maybe… One Viking suggested, "He's probably just sleeping at home with his dragon… oh." Stoick facepalmed.

The horn sounded out in the distance with loud, deep reverberations of a long blast followed by two short blasts. It was located on a high point at the edge of the village, by the cliff, overlooking the docks, on a rotating pedestal that allowed it to point in any direction. The call was repeated three times and the echos differed with each call as the horn was pointed towards the village, then towards the harbor, then the forest past the edge of the village, then the village again.

As the last call went out, the Night Fury came bounding up with Tofa on its back and a saddle clenched in its mouth. The little girl clambered down unsteadily.

"Too fast, Mr. Toothless sir!" she breathlessly squeezed out. "I was scared! Oh, hello Mr. Beast sir. Toothless says Firefly is missing. He was taken by Berserkers. I recognize their armor."

"Berserkers!"

It came out in a gasp from many people. Dagur had been campaigning to get support from other tribes to join in a unified attack against Berk to secure the dragons for themselves. If they had Hiccup as a hostage...

Stoick didn't even get annoyed with Tofa's use of someone's "dragon name". He could only stare. _Gods help my son!_

Skuf came sprinting up to the chief and stooped to catch his breath. He was wearing his usual brown tunic and leggings with leather moccasins that he finds comfortable for training.

He reached out his hand towards Tofa, who grabbed it and said, "Mr. Dragon Whisperer says he's sure Firefly was taken to a ship in the fleet- I mean... armada. More than the number of scales on Toothless. Skuf says that it may be well over three... thand? Thosen? Thound. Oh! Thous _and_! Sorry, sir, new word and it's strange to learn this way. They should be a few leagues out by now."

Stoick nodded, deep in thought. Four thousand is a massive army. His tribe would be outnumbered ten-to-one, not to mention that they'd probably be facing a lot of catapults and ballistae. Sure, he had the high ground advantage, but that isn't an insurmountable obstacle for such a massive force.

Furthermore, why is Dagir committing so heavily so soon? Fall was coming up and the Winter ice would not be the sort of conditions to establish a claimed territory. Why isn't Dagur waiting until the next Spring or Summer? Is he really that impatient? Also, why has there been no attempt at communication before launching such an armada? Usually, a demand is made first and there's a round of negotiating before committing to an attack. The last time a chieftain launched a sizable attack on another tribe only to turn around when he came to an agreement and realized there was a misunderstanding, he was executed. The tribe even kept him locked up so they could perform the Blood Eagle on him at the next intertribal Thing.

Could Dagur simply want to just raze Berk and go home? Could it really be that simple? If he wants Berk to show him how to control dragons, he will be very disappointed. Only the Red Death can control the beasts; the Hooligans just try to be nice to them in hopes they'll respond likewise, just like with their allied tribes. Even when Skuf and Tofa did their experiment to try to control Toothless, they had no effect.

Regardless, Stoick knew his people needed confidence. The first task at hand, then, would be to prepare for an invasion. He shouted out for Gobber, who was running in with an awkward peg-leg jog while his Hotburple dragon settled in a clearing at the edge of the town square.

"What's the hustle, Stoick?" Gobber asked.

"We have a full-scale invasion coming in and Hiccup is missing. Get your dragon and blow the horn to call everyone here."

The previous horn-blower had already returned and rolled his eyes at another call to be made so soon after the first. Gobber shouted a confirmation as he hobbled towards his dragon, which met him halfway. After a moment, the rapid flutter of wings could be heard ascending. A moment later, the horn roared out three long tones to summon everyone to the village square. Stoick saw that most of his councilors and commanders were already around him as he started to bellow out orders, causing people to run off to their assigned tasks.

"Ack! Take your men, cut down some trees, and set up some lumber as barricades to slow the enemy's movement from the forest. Leave the limbs on the trees; that will help to slow their advance. Setup tinder and kindling so we can quickly light them up if we need to. Also, get some logs setup on the cliff overlooking the ramp to the docks. Twenty should do. Make sure they can roll fairly easily."

Ack gave an evil grin as he acknowledged the chief and ran off to do the work. Flaming logs tumbling down on top of an army working their way up the ramps to the village would be very effective at stopping the advance from that direction and would not be detectable by the enemy until it's too late.

The chief continued to bellow out orders. "Spitelout, get the catapults ready and manned. Dandruff, take ten people who can man a boat. Scatter our fleet in a wide arc around the harbor to hamper the enemy's maneuvering as they try to pull up to our island. Make sure they would be willing to ride a dragon as that will be how they will get from the boat back to land."

While placing boats out there for the enemy to board may seem to give them the advantage, it would only add to the congestion as they would try to find a spot to pull up to land - all while dodging catapult projectiles. They would be smart to just navigate around the boats, but even that would slow them down and maybe even cause some collisions, knocking catapults, ballistae, and people off the deck.

Burning the docks sounded very tempting, but that would only make the enemy's options more clearly defined. If they are able to dock in the harbor, then some of them might be foolish enough to do just that. Tempting the enemy to choose a terrible option is usually better than forcing them to choose another that may be less defensible.

 _Just like in a game of Hnefatafl,_ Stoick mused. _Forcing your opponent to make a bad move is more significant than making a good move, yourself._

Continuing his orders, he said, "Toenail, you're in charge of getting the livestock to their shelters. Take as many people as you need... after Dandruff gets his crew."

Stoick paused for a moment as if in thought. Then, turning to Skuf, who was rigging the saddle ropes to the tail fin, asked, "Did the Night Fury see any dragons with the attacking fleet? Do our enemies have trained dragons?"

Skuf locked eyes with the dragon for a moment, then Viking and dragon shook their heads at Stoick. The chief slapped his palm to his forehead as he realized he technically asked a mute rider to tell him what a mute dragon saw.

"Good!" Then, bellowing his voice to reach the sizable crowd that had gathered around, he continued, "Alright, listen up, everybody. We have a large army of angry Vikings headed our way. Even though they outnumber us, we have dragons. We also have the high ground advantage. If they want to fight on our turf, they will pay in _blood_ for their arrogance!"

A roar sounded out from the Vikings gathered around, almost entirely drowning out a chorus of dragon roars overhead. People cleared a space as a Monstrous Nightmare, Zippleback, Gronckle, Deadly Nadder, and Hotburple landed.

"That's all the riders accounted for, Chief," Gobber called out as he dismounted. "Skullcrusher is coming, but I told him to just walk since it's crowded enough as is. He's all saddled up, though."

As the other riders dismounted, Stoick ordered, "Astrid, Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout, find Dandruff at the docks and coordinate with him. Astrid, you're in charge of the riders, but you report to Dandruff."

Snotlout scowled and said, "Why does _she_ get to boss us-"

"SNOTLOUT!"

The rider grimaced. "Sorry. Yes, chief!"

Tuffnut snickered at him and they shoved at each other, but they quickly mounted their dragons and flew off.

The chief whirled around. "Fishlegs. Take your Gronckle and find out how far away the enemy fleet is."

The stocky Viking took a frightened step back and clasped his hands together over his chest, writhing his fingers nervously. However, he just gulped and said nothing.

"Head South by SouthEast," Stoick continued. "Don't attack. Don't count the ships. Don't admire them or anything else. Just see where they are and turn tail. I need to know how far out they are. Just give me your best estimate."

Though he may not be the biggest dragon-hugger, Stoick knew the strengths and weaknesses of the dragons on his island. Gronckles are heavily armored, even on the underside, and their buzzing wings allow for quick changes in direction, making them good for evading enemy fire. Although they are slower overall and can't fly as far in a day as most other dragons, they are speed demons when it comes to tight maneuvering and dodging projectiles. "Like hitting a wary Gronckle" is a common euphemism for something that is next to impossible.

"Ummm, yessir. Will do," Fishlegs said, gathering his courage.

The stocky boy stumbled over to his Gronckle and heaved himself up into the saddle, adjusting the hardwood staff that was strapped to his back. He used to favor the hammer, but Skuf set him up with a staff as it gave him much more versatility and speed that allowed his stubby frame to keep up with the flurry of blows an enemy with a lighter sword can deliver while still allowing for power-strokes.

As Fishlegs and his dragon ascended straight up into the fog, Stoick scanned the area, looking for Skuf and Toothless. "And Skuf, I need you to... Skuf? Where did he go?"

"Mr. Beast sir?"

Tofa spoke up as she rested a hand on the Rumblehorn's large maw. The dragon had, apparently, walked over to the crowd without Stoick even noticing. It was laying next to the girl, staring at nothing in particular.

Stoick grudgingly recognized his "dragon name" and turned to regard the little girl, who shrunk back into the dragon, but gathered her courage and spoke up again.

"Dragon Whisperer is... I mean Skuf is going to get help. He told Toothless to tell Skullcrusher to tell me so I could tell you. He will be back soon"

The chief furrowed his eyebrows at the little girl. Picking up on Tofa's fear, the Rumblehorn protectively wrapped its tail around her. It did, however, briefly lower its head at the chief, possibly suggesting this was only meant to comfort the little girl and wasn't an act of defiance. Stoick had come to especially like this dragon for simple reasons like that. It was brutish, but still had a certain pragmatism and respect for authority and order.

The girl and the dragon stared at each other for a moment, lost in their unspoken dialog.

"What kind of help, Tofa?" Stoick asked. "Where is he going?"

With a nod to the dragon, Tofa peered at the chief over the thick tail. "He's going to the surrounding islands where many of the freed dragons live. He and Toothless are going to ask the dragons if any of them are willing to help us. He will tell them that an enemy has captured Firefly and is going to attack the home of the people who helped to kill the demonic queen. Oh, uhhh, Red Death"

The crowd of Vikings, which had quieted down to hear Tofa, suddenly surged into a loud din of talking and shouting. Some were hopeful that the dragons in the area would help them. Others insisted this was _their_ fight and they would not be beggars indebted to any dragon. Stoick just put a large hand to his forehead, dragging it down his face in dismay.

If Skuf succeeds in convincing a large number of dragons to help Berk, then this will only make the political matters worse, regardless of whether Berk gets burnt to the ground or the attackers are repelled. However, if the attacking fleet is as large as Stoick suspects, he could use every blade, fang, claw, and talon he could get on his side.

A Gronckle roar sounded overhead. Stoick had just noticed that the fog started to lift and visibility was much improved, revealing a pink sky spotted with clouds. That was unfortunate as the limited visibility of the fog would have enabled their dragons to burn the enemy ships without taking much ranged fire. Now, though, they would be sitting ducks in broad daylight.

The Gronckle settled down vertically in a small clearing only a few paces from the chief. Fishlegs jumped down, out of breath, eyes wide with fright.

"Two leagues, sir," he gasped. "And it's a _big_ fleet. _Very_ big. The fog was lifting and I saw at least a hundred ships. Thousands of warriors. They have many catapults and ballistae. They fired at us as we turned tail, but good ol' Meatlug had no trouble evading such a laughable attack."

"Good work, Fish," Stoick said. "The other riders are down at the docks. Find them and offer your assistance."

As the stocky Viking and dragon ascended into the air again, Stoick bellowed out to everyone else around him. "Well, enough standing around. We have an island to defend. Get into your armor, grab your weapons and report to your commanding officers. Don't forget, we're fighting Vikings, not dragons. Iron armor or gambesons if you have it. Leather armor can work, too. If you can't swing a blade, get to the great hall. Alright? Now move!"

Phlegma the Fierce sidled up next to Stoick. She was a female Viking warrior, even larger than Big Bertha, but more chiseled and less rounded and shapely.

"Berserkers, eh?" she casually said in his ear. "I don't think you're any less surprised than me, though I never imagined so _much_ support for them. And so _sudden_ like this."

Stoick sighed. "The dragon roars, as the saying goes."

"Can you say 'shit-storm'?"

Stoick solemnly nodded. "Aye. We're dead either way. Skuf gets dragons to help us win, but there will be blood feuds against us from _every_ tribe. Skuf does _not_ get dragons to help and we get burnt to a crisp. And all because they think that we can simply summon an army of dragons out of our arse and that scares them. We either give them every justification for their fears or we die showing how full of shit they are."

Stoick ran towards his house to suit up for battle. He hurriedly tore through his chest of armor, tossing pieces aside to find what he needed.

The highly prized and expensive chainmail armor hasn't seen the light of day for quite a while. After the dragon attacks intensified a few decades ago, all tribal wars pretty much ceased in the area as everyone was playing catch-up in surviving the dragon raids. Chainmail would not protect against being impaled by talon, quill, horn, claw, or fang. However, it _did_ provide a wonderful honeycomb to trap the still-burning fuel so many of those beasts spew out, cooking the ironclad Viking alive.

After blowing the dust off the iron greaves and vambraces, Stoick fastened them to his arms and legs. He found the chainmail vest to be a little tighter than he recalled as he fit it over his torso and tied it secure.

 _Armor must have shrunk over the years._

Out of instinct, he grabbed his horned helmet, but realized that would not do. Horned helmets had some effect in scaring dragons or, at least, confusing them and causing them to hesitate before attacking, but giving a _human_ enemy something on your head to grab onto would be a terrible idea in a sword-fight. He found his other helmet with a smooth exterior, face guard, mail skirt for his neck, and curled rim along the bottom edge. With his new bastard sword and hand ax hanging from his belt, Stoick grabbed his large, metal-rimmed round shield and headed out.

Other warriors had gathered around or were emerging, also clad leather, mail, and gambeson. Everybody was gathering into their fighting units or finishing defense preparations. The clang of swords and soft taps of blades against shields and armor could be heard as the warriors reviewed tactics in sword-fighting.

Whether those dragons from the surrounding islands would help in the fight or not, there would be a lot of bloodshed and, no matter who wins, there will be a lot more fighting after today. As Stoick moved towards the bluff overlooking the docks, where the enemy fleet would be approaching from, he paused to admire the sight of the rising sun, which started to brighten the sky to a dark blue between the clouds.

Smoke will blot out that sun before it gets much higher, but there was only one concern that truly tugged at his mind.

 _Hiccup, I hope you're safe_ _._


	18. A good start

**A good start**

Toothless' sensor lobes hummed in the wind as he screamed through the sky. He was not a dragon, but a blur. His wings did not flap; they vibrated. The wind didn't carry him; it fled for dear life!

He sucked in big, deep gulps of air and pushed himself to his limits, but always felt like he was going too slow. His body burned from the effort, but there would be no rest. Not without Firefly on his back or by his side. Not while everything in this world was all wrong!

Firefly was held captive by miserable land-striders, but it was far too late to question his instruction to get help. The land-striders in his nest would help, but they can't fly or breathe fire. They had those floating wooden vessels, but the enemy had so many more. They would be hardly any help at all.

That left only one other place to turn for allies. The dragons that were formerly under the mind snare of the demonic queen were well aware of who it was that freed them. With nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no guidance beyond instinct, many of them ended up nesting on the islands surrounding Firefly's. Firefly never felt comfortable flying to these islands and approaching these dragons because he was far too humble to let them express their gratitude. The other riders and their dragons followed in his wake.

They would help. They _must_ help. Before taking off, Toothless had sent out a desperate plea, channeling his projections into narrow, far-reaching bands that any dragon would hear, practically begging them to help fight to save Firefly. The invaders floating towards Firefly's nest did not concern these dragons, but Toothless would make sure they remember where they would be if it wasn't for Firefly taking a risk on their behalf. Well, he was driven mainly out of a love for his own dragon, but it's not wise to get lost in such details.

Seeking help from these dragons actually wasn't Toothless' idea. Dragons are very good at observing and remembering and making logical deductions, but creating new thoughts and taking blind leaps of logic and assumptions was one thing that set land-striders apart. It was Badger, or the Dragon Whisperer as others call him, who devised such a plan.

That still didn't make the weight of this unfamiliar rider feel any less wrong. Though he didn't weigh much more than Firefly, he still was _not_ Firefly. The dragon's rider was Badger and even that admission twisted his gut.

Toothless flicked one of his larger sensor lobes against his rider's face. _{This is the second time you've done this to me, Badger. I am flying away from Firefly with a rider that makes a poor substitute. I cannot see him. I cannot hear him. There is nothing for me but blind hope that he survives!}_

Badger rubbed the dragon's neck, soothingly. Unlike Firefly, though, such contact was not necessary for communicating, probably because he learned from a hatchling, when the mind was more malleable.

 _{Don't worry, Toothless. It worked before. It will work again. I know the enemy. They will not harm Firefly because he is far too valuable to them alive. Even injuring him would be a loss to them.}_

 _{You better be right or I will eat you!}_

Badger chuckled. _{I thought you hate the taste of us land-striders?}_

 _{I would do it for the sake of principle. I really hate flying with you.}_

 _{At least I'm doing a better job than on our first flight together on that night we first met.}_

Toothless snorted. _{You can hardly keep us steady when we're flying straight. Learn faster!}_

Badger actually was a fast learner, but an occasional gust of wind or change in flight direction would cause some instability until the rider figured out how to respond. It was frustrating if the dragon's growling and snapping teeth were any indication. Even though Badger could hear Toothless' instructions, he just didn't have the same instinctive reflexes. Still, Toothless would endure for the sake of his precious Firefly.

Up ahead, what was formerly a speck of land was coming into greater definition. Waves beat against a sheer cliff face that receded to a sandy beach farther along the coastline. Rocky mountains and murky swamps took turns filling up the interior. There's a good reason land-striders never inhabited this island, but it was perfect for dragons.

A large, red dragon flew in close from the direction of the island to join Toothless and they started flying tight circles around each other, which was a lot easier than hovering. She was the kind the land-striders call a nightmarish monster, but a more suitable name for this species would be, "arrogant and easily-provoked dragons that quickly deplete all of their fire before a raid is even close to complete." She was actually an impressive specimen of her species with a body significantly larger than most and glistening scales that rippled over the muscles flexing along the torso. A calm confidence wafted out from her as if there was simply no need to assert her power.

In his slack-jawed gaze, Badger overcompensated in adjusting the tail fin, drawing out an irritated snarl from his mount. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Toothless projected a salutation.

 _{Greetings, First Contact. Are you the alpha on this island?}_

If so, that would be ideal. The other dragons would listen to her and Toothless could speed along his way to the next island. He even extended the courtesy of giving her a name. Dragons don't name every creature, object, and star the way land-striders do and are usually nameless. Declaring a name for a dragon was a noteworthy flattery. If she already had some other name the other dragons use to refer to her - a rarity - she could always correct him.

First Contact replied, showing some surprise at being named. _{Yes, I am alpha on this island. We heard your call for help. We do not want to fight the land-strider's war, but we will help save Firefly because you and he saved us. Every dragon able to fly and fight will aid you.}_

 _{I thank you for your willingness to help. That is all I ask; to help Firefly. Would you tell your dragons to follow me as their alpha for a short duration while we rescue Firefly? Organizing dragons against land-strider defenses is what I've been doing my whole life, after all, and my rider is even more familiar with how to deal with them.}_

First Contact responded immediately, as if she had considered this already. _{I will tell them to obey you as their alpha until the sun sets, Firefly is rescued, or his death is verified, whichever comes first.}_

Toothless snarled and whined at the thought of losing is rider, but he understood the necessity for declaring such a possibility. She must have fought hard to establish herself as alpha on this island and she would not want to yield such control without some assurance of getting it back.

Taking another deep breath to compose his thoughts, Toothless warbled his joy at having allies on his side. _{I am in your debt. This will help greatly to save Firefly. Having more dragons will only make things easier. I am moving on to the other islands in this area for the same purpose. Please tell your dragons to land on my island, but keep a comfortable distance from the wooden land-strider nests. They are expecting you, but don't let any of them approach you unless they are alone and without any shiny claws.}_

More dragons started to approach from the island. Toothless spent another moment that felt like an eternity to his frantic mind explaining to First Contact the signs of non-aggression among land-striders that would indicate they mean no harm. Some of them, like the Beast, may want to approach the dragons to organize the land-striders' efforts and attacking him would not help anyone. With that detail taken care of, he sped off to the next island. This was a good start. One down, three to go.

He grumbled between large gulps of air. This plan will work. It _must_ work.

########

* * *

########

Stoick moved through the village, inspecting the warriors and discussing defense plans with the unit leaders. Fishlegs had just flown in again, estimating the enemy fleet was barely a league from Berk. The direction of the wind was certainly a boon as it made the enemy's advance slow.

The chief was still undecided about how to handle first contact.

Surely, it would not be wise to simply allow the enemy fleet to start docking and offloading warriors. Waiting for Dagur to declare some sort of ransom for Hiccup while establishing a foothold for an attack could only lead to disaster. Maybe It would be best to just start with the aggression once the enemy came within catapult range.

It was still hard to believe that Skuf had told his crazy plan through the Night Fury, then through the Rumblehorn, then through Tofa. If it works, maybe they can take the fight out to sea and whisk up Hiccup and chase off the enemy before they even get one boat on the shores of Berk.

 _And maybe I can become ten years younger just by willing it on myself hard enough._

A loud chorus of dragon roars from above drew his attention to the sky, along with every other Viking in the village. Stoick started counting out loud how many dragons were in this group.

 _Group, flock, drove, swarm, horde? How about we be traditional and call it a_ raid _of dragons?_

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5... 10... 20, something like 40 or 60 I reckon."

The dragons circled once around the village perimeter, following a large, bright-red Monstrous Nightmare, then settled down at the edge of the forest, off to the side of the great hall.

"Stay here," Stoick ordered his unit commanders. "I'll go take a look, but don't allow anybody else to approach. They're still dragons after all; we don't wanna spook the beasts."

As Stoick separated himself from the others and walked towards the flock of dragons, sword sheathed and shield strapped to his back, he saw that lead Monstrous Nightmare take a couple steps forward, eyes fixed on him. Its two legs were bent in a low crouch with its wings resting on the ground, acting as a second set of legs.

The thing was huge! Not Red Death sort of huge, but Stoick never saw a Monstrous Nightmare that large. It radiated grace and strength from every pore of its body. Stoick could just imagine how much Fishlegs would squeal with delight at an opportunity to examine such a dragon.

When he was about thirty paces away, the soft sound of rapid steps could be heard approaching from behind. Stoick was tensed up enough as is without someone mindlessly spooking the lizards. His instructions were not in any way difficult to understand.

Whirling around, he bellowed out, "Can ya not follow the _simplest_ -" He stopped short, though, when he recognized who was approaching. "Tofa! What are you doing out? Get back inside!"

Tofa looked up at the chief and pleaded, "Please, Mr. Beast sir. Dragon Whisperer isn't here and I can hear dragons. I can even hear them without having to touch them. I promise I'll be safe."

Stoick hesitated, looking back at the dragons which haven't budged, then to Tofa. He made eye contact with Gobber and Spitelout, off in the distance, who just shrugged. With a sigh, he scooped up the little girl in one arm, sitting her on his broad shoulder as he resumed his trek towards the newcomer dragons.

Tofa squealed with giddy excitement. "Thanks, sir! I'll be a good tralalator!"

"Translator," Stoick instantly corrected. "Just know that if any one of those beasts so much as twitches, I'm running you to the great hall myself."

The Monstrous Nightmare shifted its weight uneasily and curled its lips when the chief was about five paces away.

Stoick tsked and said, "Well, I love you too, dragon. If you don't like my sword, then too bad. You dragons call these shiny claws, so I'll make you a deal; you remove all _your_ claws and I'll remove _mine_. Or we'll make life easier and I promise I won't hurt you if you return the favor."

The curl of the dragon's lips lessened, but Stoick still had the impression that it was very nervous near him. He had no clue why, though, as he was wearing chainmail. It's great in combat against other Vikings, but if that dragon spews fire, it'll trap the burning goo like a honeycomb and he's toast. Literally.

A voice whispered down from over his shoulder, "I think she trusts you, sir. She's just curious. She recognizes you, I think, but Toothless told her to not allow more than one to approach. Tell her I don't count as a second person."

The chief chuckled at that and spoke up for the dragon. "What she said. You dragons ain't the _only_ creatures who can carry a rider on ya."

The Monstrous Nightmare's torso heaved as it made a strange cawing noise that Stoick could only imagine must have been laughter. Even after almost two years of having dragons in his village, the very notion of talking to a dragon like it was some... _person_... just seemed so awkward. The thought of them responding in a way that was not animalistic just seemed so unnatural.

"Anyway," Stoick continued, consoling himself with the thought that he was just talking to Tofa and she was translating into their speaking without words or whatever, "Welcome to Berk. Thank you for coming. You're here to help save Hiccup, right?"

The dragon cocked its head to the side as it regarded the chief and his "rider".

Tofa jumped in, helpfully. "He means Firefly, Ma'am. You're here to help save Firefly? She says yes."

Stoick nodded. "Good. Most of us are friendly with dragons nowadays, but it would be best to try to avoid rubbing shoulders with every Viking on this island."

He also made a mental note to make sure nobody would use the catapults if any dragons were nearby. Also, he had no clue what would motivate these dragons to come or what they would be expecting in return. Fish? That could be arranged. If every dragon wanted a rider, well… Berk is only so large and dragons eat a lot...

After a moment of staring at the dragon, Stoick thought he recognized a small scar on its maw and a smile spread across his face. "I think I recognize you, dragon. You're the one who tried to kill Hiccup after he shot down the Night Fury."

The dragon curled its neck and jerked its head back, shifting its weight uneasily. The chief could only chuckle at the voice next to his head.

"Sir, that's not fair! She was under the Red Death's mind snare and-"

"I know," Stoick cut her off, laughing. He waved a hand at the dragon dismissively and said, "I wasn't trying to make accusations, just reminiscing about old times. I actually have a scar on my knuckle to match the one on the dragon's lip."

Stoick held up his broad hand, brushing a white scar at the base of his ring finger. For some reason, talking to a dragon was easier when the topic was the raids. "I think your tooth poked through your lip and into my hand when I hit you. Ah, it was a fun night, that was. Good times. Gods, how big you've grown since then. Figured you was young. The look of surprise and shock when you ran out of fire was priceless. We'll call it a draw if that'll get me out of a rematch."

The Monstrous Nightmare threw its head back and gave out a cawing sort of laugh. The other dragons gathered around seemed to respond similarly, but more hesitantly. Stoick found it to be quite the creepy experience, but Tofa's face lit up.

"Anyway," Stoick said, "You dragons sharpen your claws and straighten your scales or whatever you do to prepare for a fight. I'm going to go take care of my men. I bet Skuf and Toothless will be along soon to direct you."

As the chief turned and started to walk back to the village, a heavy footstep thudded from behind. He whirled around, fingers reflexively wrapped around the handle of his sword, but he pulled his hand away when he saw the dragon was doing nothing aggressive. It just stood right in front of him, extending its neck forward.

Stoick knew what the dragon wanted. He extended a hand and looked at it thoughtfully. There was still that fight within to allow himself to touch one of those scaly beasts. He just pretended that he was reaching out to touch Snotlout's Monstrous Nightmare. The fact that he was desperate for help in saving his son, held hostage somewhere out at sea, may have bolstered his confidence, too.

The dragon extended its snout forward to touch the hand and Stoick tried to suppress the shudder that ran through his spine on contact. The scales were cool and smooth. Puffs of warm air from the dragon's nostrils rolled over his arm and body. He felt that sensation he has come to associate with touching dragons, that hint of insight lingering on the threshold of perception. It was enough to suppose the dragon felt curiosity regarding him and the little girl on his shoulder. Stoick's own concern for Hiccup felt like it took on a slightly different tinge, supposedly some sort of feedback or something like that. Regardless, it was encouraging to know the dragon also cared about Hiccup. There probably wasn't a single dragon in the world that doesn't simply love that boy and act like a lap dog around him.

Stoick allowed his hand and the dragon's snout to drift apart. "Anyway, thank you for offering your aid in getting Hiccup back. I'll take care of my village; we can hold our own. Hiccup's safety is the _only_ thing I'm concerned about." That last part was actually a lie, but Stoick really didn't want to push his luck.

He suddenly noticed that Tofa was leaning forward on his shoulder, supporting herself with one hand on the back of the chief's head while reaching the other towards the dragon. The Monstrous Nightmare lifted its head to the girl's height and started to extend it forward, but Stoick reflexively tensed up and took a step back.

The dragon froze. There was a long, awkward pause, filled with a lot of standing and staring.

Tofa let out a light sigh. "She doesn't blame you, sir. She is very large, after all. She must appear very imposing and scary."

"What?! Well, listen here, you-"

Stoick took a step forward to close the distance again and twisted to the side so the shoulder supporting Tofa was extended towards the dragon. She reached out and the Nightmare extended its neck to make contact with the girl's hand.

Tofa squealed with delight and giggled. "First Contact? My name is Butterfly. Well, I guess it's really Tofa, but Mr. Skullcrusher calls me his little Butterfly. It's nice to meet you, too, First Contact."

The chief was about to comment on such a strange name, but gagged on a breath of air exhaled from the dragon. He waved a hand in front of his face to get some fresher air and said, "Gah! If you ever run out of fire, just breathe in your enemy's face and that'll knock 'em dead."

The Monstrous Nightmare did that weird dragon laughing thing again as Stoick spun around to head back to the village.

"Sir, may I stay here with the dragons?"

The chief halted and looked over to his "rider". He slowly turned around and glanced at the dragons milling about along the outskirts of the forest.

"I know you like dragons a lot, little missy, but no. We don't know what they're like."

"Pleeeease, sir? The dragons would never harm me and First Contact said she would protect me from any threat."

Stoick rolled his eyes at the Monstrous Nightmare, which hadn't moved at all, yet. "I just hate it when kids give me the puppy eyes and use that pleading, whining tone of voice."

With a sigh, he lowered Tofa off his shoulder and set her on the ground and said, "You can stay for now. I'll send someone to take you to the Great Hall before we start mobilizing to deal with these invaders. Agreed?"

Tofa beamed a smile back at the chief, she said, "Yessir!"

"No flying. Promise?"

Without a moment of hesitation, Tofa spit on her hand and extended it up towards the chief. Stoick wasn't phased at all as he used to do that as a child and returned the gesture. The dragon tilted its head at such a display.

Satisfied with the plan, Stoick turned about to jog back to the village. These dragons would be a great boon in rescuing Hiccup, who must surely be on one of those ships. The more he thought about it, leaving Tofa with the dragons as some sort of liaison would help them feel more comfortable here and, hopefully, strengthen their resolve to make sure the rescue effort succeeds.

 _After all_ , Stoick told himself, _battles are determined by the heart of each individual fighter more than the size of an army or the weaponry involved. Hmm, since when did I equate a dragon with a warrior?_

Another chorus of roars sounded out overhead as another group of dragons settled down near the first. Stoick saw the large Monstrous Nightmare, with Tofa onboard, move over towards the new group, presumably to get them caught up to speed with their unspoken words.

 _Hang in there, son. We're mobilizing the most impressive dragon raid Berk has ever seen._

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* * *

########

Throst looked out towards Berk. What was once a speck on the horizon was starting to take shape. The wind that whipped his shoulder-length black hair and fluttered his scalemail armor was definitely blowing the wrong direction. The masts groaned under the load and the sails whipped around. He had told Dagur that they should tack over to the West before their final approach so that the wind at their back would give the enemy less time to react after spotting them. However, that would have delayed the attack and patience was not the deranged chief's strongest suit.

Throst fished his spyglass from the satchel slung around his torso, but scowled at the film of charcoal dusting the lens and caked into the crevices. It must have escaped from the wrappings and deposited inside the spyglass. He gently tapped the tube against one of his iron vambraces to knock out the loose bits, carefully removed the lens, and wiped it on the inside of his sleeve. Looking through the spyglass, he could discern some more detail of the landscape in front of the fleet.

Jagged cliffs rose up over the harbor, offering an easy place for the invading army to dock their ships... and then endure a suicidal climb up steep, jagged pathways to the top of the cliffs on which the village was situated. Of course, there was a lot more coastline than what lay just beneath the village, but the warriors would have to trudge through the dense forest and through or around deep ravines. If the Hooligans set fire to the forest, that would delay the attack until the next day at the very least. Throst made a mental note to watch out that his warriors don't get trapped in a burning forest by extending too far in without securing the perimeters.

Looking around, though, things were looking very good. This was, by far, the largest invading force the Barbaric Archipelago has seen in centuries. Over 4,000 warriors on 127 ships were eager to fight. The Hairy Hooligan tribe had about 700 Vikings total, but after taking out women, children, the elderly, and the infirm, probably 400 warriors at best. However, Berk had dragon riders and _everyone_ wanted a slice of that pie for themselves. Unfortunately, that was where their allies stopped thinking.

 _An ally to a conqueror is simply the last victim._

The hostage held underneath the deck could prove to be very advantageous. Hiccup sure was a lucky find. Throst just happened to be stationed on an island along the approach to Berk ahead of the fleet when the boy simply dropped down from the sky on the dragon's back. He quickly got over his shock and motioned for his men to remain hidden while observing as discreetly as possible.

It was an almost unbelievable sight to behold. The dragon was growling and pacing back and forth, wings unfurled, teeth gnashing. The boy simply shouted at his dragon, saying something about doing what's right instead of what's safe.

 _Kids these days._

When Hiccup somehow knocked his beast unconscious, Throst just couldn't resist. He had all his men rush forward to secure the rider and his pet dragon. As expected, taking the boy was easier done than said. What definitely was _not_ expected, though, was for the damned dragon to wake from its slumber so quickly. In literally the blink of an eye, it killed a good warrior and gave burns and broken bones to a few more. Surprisingly enough, it flew away after Throst jabbed his dagger at the boy's throat. Throst regretted holding the boy while the dragon escaped. Maybe if he had grabbed a bola instead, he could have bagged the beast.

Hiccup had received a broken rib, cut lips, and a lot of bruises as he was hauled to the flagship. He didn't put up any fight, but after seeing what his pet did, it was hard to find the resolve to take him alive. Breaking some arms and legs sounded tempting, but such would have to wait. Knocking him about with his prosthetic leg would have to suffice for now.

Still, The little brat was a fortuitous bargaining chip. A gift from the gods and an omen of their support, one might even say. If that was the sort of loyalty this so-called "dragon master" can coax out of the beasts, though, then this mad hunt to find a way to control the dragons may not be all it was cooked up to be. Regardless, before any fighting even begins, Dagur could negotiate with Stoick for the release of his son, demanding some sort of ransom. Maybe the drugs and interrogation going on below deck will yield some good information. Maybe they will secure Berk's cooperation.

Then again, there are thousands of warriors spread out on over a hundred ships. They all have dreams of burning Burk to ash and flying dragons home. Would they even heed the horn call to halt or retreat if a truce has been established? It would take only one fool to start it all, then another would follow, then the whole damn collective army is charging in, drowning out the shouting of the commanding officers to hold their ground.

This confrontation will no doubt just turn into a direct assault. They will sack the village and squeeze every last dragon secret out of them. first contact will be very bloody and the Hooligans will have terrain advantage, but no jetty can hold back a tidal wave. They may have dragons, but only seven, not counting twenty Terrible Terrors. The Hooligans will fall for sure, but not without taking many warriors down with them.

However, if the impossible happens and the attack fails, the consequences could be very dire. The Hooligans would be royally pissed off and they would fly their dragons to attack Berserker island. With almost all able-bodied warriors sent on this assault, their homes were relatively defenseless.

There's no way that could happen, though, even though the element of surprise has already been lost. That annoying Gronckle rider was seen three times today, spying on the fleet as they made their way across a side-wind towards Berk. The first time they saw it, the dragon got close and they attacked, but for a flying boulder, it could move pretty fast and just dodged the ballista bolts and bolas.

A thought came to Throst's mind for the next confrontation. If he could find a way to load a bola into a ballista, that would make a fine dragon-slaying weapon. Harder to dodge than a thrown bola, easier to hit than a ballista bolt, and he may even capture the dragon alive. Why has nobody tried that before? If it works, he would instantly become famous and wealthy. Dragon trappers everywhere would line up for such a weapon!

Sadly, that thought hadn't struck anyone prior to this attack.

Throst went below deck to take his mind off the matter. As he descended the steep stairway to the ship's hold, he saw Dagur pacing in front of Hiccup, who slumped in a chair. The boy was high as a cloud on gods-know-what sort of drugs the healers brewed up. He gave a giddy laugh every time Dagur struck him. At least he wasn't crying over that stupid Terrible Terror with the broken leg and wing. Well, _two_ broken wings, now. Threatening to hurt the dragon even more didn't draw out the information Dagur wanted from the boy and following through on the threat didn't make things any better. It wasn't that he suspected the boy was lying, just that the answers weren't what he wanted to hear.

"Dagur," Throst greeted, "We are on our final approach to Berk and will soon be within catapult range."

"Ohhhhh, haaaiiii theeeerrre," Hiccup dragged out in a drunken, singsong voice. "Yooou hiiiiit meeee aaaannnnd brrrrooooooke myyyyy rrrriiib. Thhhhaaaannnkssss! Aaaiiii haaaaated thaaaat riiiiib aaaanyyyyywwwaaaaayyyya."

The boy's dilated pupils could barely be seen behind all the puffed up skin around his eyes. He looked tired and hyper at the same time, often switching between extreme emotions. His voice was quite a bit higher than normal and he spoke with a heavy lisp, slurring his words together. Speaking seemed to require all of his concentration.

Dagur kicked the boy's good leg in the shin in frustration, causing him to cry out in pain as he collapsed to the floor, then suddenly burst out laughing uncontrollably. The Berserker chief threw Hiccup's prosthetic leg in irritation. It hit the boy solidly in the stomach, causing him to gasp for air as he continued to dry-heave in his maniacal laughter.

"He should be _LOVING_ me!" Dagur shouted, living up to his title of 'your derangedness'. "He should be telling me _EVERYTHING_ I ask! All he says is that nobody can control dragons. At least, not since the Red Death was destroyed. _HOW_ do you make them _OBEY?!_ "

"Loooooove," Hiccup wheezed out after recovering his breath. "Giiiiiive Fiiiiish, nooooot aaaaaax."

"No good!" Dagur shouted. "Tried that. Gave a fish to a Nadder and it tried to bite my hand off. KIlled it in front of the other dragons, but always the same. I want a Red Death. Give me a Red Death! I WANT IT NOW! Where can I find a Red Death?"

Hiccup stopped licking the floorboards to look up sideways at Dagur with a stupid grin plastered on his face. "Tooooothhhhleeeesssss kiiiillled iiiiiiiittta. Aiiiiiiiyyye heeeeellllped."

"Toothless?! I don't _CARE_ about your stupid dragon!" Dagur screamed, kicking Hiccup in the back. The boy yelped. "I'll make _YOU_ toothless if you don't tell me! Where can I find more Red Deaths? WHERE?! I'll even settle for a Red Death _egg_. It must have a spawning ground _somewhere_. TELL ME NOW!"

"Yooooou weeeere theeeere. Whaaa diiiidyoouuuu fiiiinda?"

"Nothing!" Dagur spat in frustration as he paced in front of the hostage. "There was nothing there. _NOTHING_! Dead dragons. Broken eggs. A lot of rocks and a big hole in the ground leading to – I don't know where. Maybe I'll drop _YOU_ down the hole and you can tell me what you see down there."

"Thaaat soooundssss fuuuunnnna. Toooothleeeh caaatch meeeee. Tooothhh loooveeeesss meeee."

Dagur kicked Hiccup's neck in frustration. The boy curled up and gagged.

"If you mention Toothless _ONE_ more time, I'll break your neck! In fact, I think I'll do that right now, anyway, you worthless little toothpick!"

Dagur wrapped the fingers of one hand around the boy's neck, lifted him up so his feet dangled off the floor, and pulled out a dagger.

"Dagur," Throst snapped. "Sir, this boy is a powerful bargaining chip. We can use him to garner information from the Hooligans. Maybe they know things Hiccup does not. But he's _worthless_ to us if he's dead."

 _And, if the hostile terrain, hostile Vikings, and hostile dragons send us running for our lives, he will be useful to barter for more favorable terms of surrender._

Suffice to say, Throst was not in favor of taking this particular approach in securing Berk and the dragons. Dagur may be more ambitious than his father, but he's a bit too deranged for a good leader.

"Ya ya," Dagur said, waving off Throst in irritation. He tossed Hiccup into the chair. "Whatever. Come, let us raze these soft barbarians."

The chief stuffed a rag into Hiccup's mouth and tied him to the chair before they ascended to the deck. As the sunlight started to assault their eyes, alarmed shouts sounded out from everywhere.

Throst looked towards Berk. They were almost there.

He looked around. A sea of ships bobbed in the waves, ready for war.

The swarm of warriors gaped at the sky.

Throst looked up. His jaw fell down.

A cloud blotted out the sun. A cloud made of dragons.

A rain of fire fell down from the cloud. Smoke and mist rose up.

Throst's heart sank with the burning ships around him.

Any fireballs or globs of burning fuel that didn't hit a boat hissed in the water, sending up steam and smoke. Everyone frantically scrambled to grab water buckets to douse the flames as dragons disappeared into the thick fog and smoke.

They were so close to Berk. So close! Almost within range to volley flaming stones from catapults and bolts from ballistas. With no visibility, all attack plans sunk. Their siege suddenly turned into a frantic fight for survival.

"Sir," Throst said, "I think we should have invested more effort in diplomacy."

Dagur was nowhere to be found, though. The hatch to the underdeck slammed shut and a lock clicked into place.

Throst grit his teeth. This wasn't exactly a good start.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Raise your hand if you like drugged Hiccup. I know I do. Oh, you too? Great! I'll make sure we got more of that, then. :P

Thanks for reading!

Also, thanks for your feedback 10Blue10, KnightLawn, and anhedral. I always enjoy hearing about what sinks and floats your boat. It really is a joy to be part of such a wonderful community of readers and writers!


	19. Clash

**19 - Clash**

Stoick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The kids do it all the time. How difficult could it be for one of the greatest dragon slayers in the entire Archipelago?

It had seemed so easy, from a distance. Now, though, Stoick wasn't too sure of himself. Maybe he was never meant to do this. Maybe, just as his son was never meant to be a big, ax-and-hammer Viking who could split a rock with his forehead, the gods declared there were certain things the father would never do. Maybe, at least, it's simply not for those who have seen too much blood and fire and death.

"C'mon, Stoick," Gobber jeered from behind. "Knees feelin' weak? I could give ya a hand. Only one, though."

Stoick growled and, even with his eyes closed, he could sense Gobber backing off.

For almost two years, his son has ridden a Night Fury almost every day. The damn beast even slept upstairs in his home! During the dragon war, Stoick was the very image of confidence. Nothing frightened him. He was never without a plan and encouragement. Now that they're at peace, every time he gets near a dragon, he feels like a clumsy child.

Sixteen years ago, his beloved wife was carried away by a dragon. Yet, now, the thought of what he was about to do by placing so much trust and yielding so much control to a beast…

Stoick let out his breath and tightened his fingers around the horn.

Knowing one's son is in mortal danger on a ship at sea can make a man do crazy things. He had decided to join the rescue effort, leaving Spitelout in charge of the island's defense. Stoick would not be stuck on his island while hoping the riders could rescue his son. Even the discomfort of being around dragons would not keep him out of a saddle... which would actually be quite impossible if he never moved his legs from where they anchored him to the wonderfully solid ground.

Stoick sucked in another deep breath.

 _Are you a coward, Stoick the Vast? Will you be out-done by these kids?_

Mercifully, the dragon was absolutely motionless. He could have been made of stone save for the deep pulls of air felt under his hand, reverberating through the dragon's snout.

"Oh, hey, look," the chief could hear Gobber saying, "The Berserkers landed already. Why hello there, Dagur. Just hold on a moment while Stoick grows some chest hair. We'll kick yer punk ass once our chief gets 'is ass on a dragon's back. Take a seat. I'll go make some tea."

Stoick ignored his old friend's ribbing as he opened his eyes and let out his breath. "I suppose I won't get up there by standing here, will I?"

Skullcrusher gently bobbed his head up and down before resuming his stance, once again, as still as the rock beneath his feet. His eyes looked into Stoick's. He was alive and sentient. He was judging Stoick. He could understand what was being said through means the chief didn't quite understand. If he could talk, he'd probably be saying, "Just get on my damn back already!"

Through that hand-to-scale contact, Stoick could feel that closeness Hiccup's always blabbing on about, a foggy glimpse into the dragon's soul, the hint of impressions his mind was apparently not trained enough to fully receive. Stoick knew Skullcrusher could likewise peer into his "emotional palette" as Skuf always wrote in his slate. The dragon could feel the fire and trepidation and responded by gently pushing a soothing confidence onto the chief. At least, that's what Stoick imagined would explain what he thought he was feeling.

 _Just do it and it's done. Do it for Hiccup!_

Stoick took a step forward along the dragon's flank, dragging his hand along the hard carapace plates. The dragon craned his head around to look at the chief, who looked up at the saddle. He saw Skuf reach an arm down from his perch on Skullcrusher's back. He saw the scaly beast slowly bob his head up and down, encouraging him.

He tried not to think about how flying must feel, the sensation of constantly falling through thin air. He tried not to think about the complications that would arise if he fell out of the saddle or the dragon landed upside-down. He looked at the wings and tried not to wonder, "Those little things can really keep us up? _And_ a gust of wind wouldn't snap those wing arms like dry twigs?" He tried not to think about the notion of a Red Death suddenly flying in to order Skullcrusher into the titan's open maw.

Apparently, his mind didn't hear the announcement that such thoughts were not on the agenda.

Stoick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"There's nothing wrong with staying on the ground, sir."

Astrid's voice registered behind him. She and Fishlegs were hastily massaging Toothless' flank, helping him recover and get ready for the next flight. The poor dragon had been flying as fast as he could for an extended period of time. It was an impressive feat, but he was now suffering the consequences. By the time he returned with the last of the dragon aid from the surrounding islands, he was gasping for air and cramping up terribly from the extended exertion. His landing wasn't the usual pounce and trot, but a very awkward belly flop.

Astrid had the presence of mind to haul Fishlegs over - literally - and start massaging the cramped dragon by digging her forearm or elbow in and dragging it along the muscle fibers. She had also asked some fellow warriors to grab fish to feed him and buckets of water for drinking and splashing on him. The dragon howled and groaned through this hasty recovery, which Fishlegs assured everyone was a good response, not a bad one.

Astrid continued from her place by the Night Fury's side, a few paces away. "Really. Skuf's coordinating the dragons already and I can coordinate the riders. We'll bring your son back to you. But if I may be so bold, sir, we really should be moving. We don't know what they're doing to Hiccup right now."

Stoick's eyes snapped open and he suddenly leaped, grabbing the lip of the saddle to haul himself up. Skullcrusher rocked from the sudden weight, but a wingtip to the ground steadied him. Sitting on a wooden bench or a stone throne was one thing, but his perch on the dragon's back felt so unsettling. The creature was rock-steady, but there was still that unsettling element of resting on a living creature.

Stoick shoved his discomfort aside, looked down at Astrid, and said, "Don't be silly, my dear. Getting on a dragon is child's play. Like, literally, 'cause I have absolutely _no_ clue how you kids just jump in the saddle so willingly."

Some of the riders and warriors nearby chuckled as Skuff helped him get strapped in, using hand gestures to show how to adjust and remove the straps securing his flight harness to the saddle.

After he was secured, the chief thumped one of Skullcrusher's carapace plates to get his attention and shouted to him over the din of the other dragons and riders, "If you try any trick flying like the Night Fury does, I will punch you in the face!"

Both the chief and dragon snorted at such a mental picture.

"Remember," the Stoick said before Skuf hopped, "You have command over the dragons from the surrounding islands, but **_I_** have command over the riders and _their_ dragons."

Skuf nodded and the chief continued, "We're here to save Hiccup. Let the bastards land on my island for all I care. You do your engagement plan we discussed earlier and I'll lead the rescue efforts on the deck."

The Dragon Whisper made eye contact with the chief and gave a sharp nod, then turned to slide down the side of Skullcrusher's neck.

Stoick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He took comfort in knowing that he hasn't fallen out of the saddle yet, nor have the dragon's wings snapped. So far, he hasn't found himself between the heavy dragon and the ground. No Red Death has come along to take control of Skullcrusher. All in all, Stoick was quite proud of himself.

 _Hang in there, son. I'm coming for you!_

Skuf looked over the head of the Night Fury on which he was seated, out past the cliffs, to the fleet advancing toward Berk. At this distance, some of the tribal crests were visible on the sails. At least eight tribes were represented in this fleet.

Hiccup was on one of those ships. He will live to see tomorrow.

Dagur the Devil was out there, too. He will die today.

Skuf would give his life to make this happen, but it troubled him that he couldn't convince himself of which priority was more important.

A stinging slap from the Night Fury's sensor lobe jerked him back to the here and now. The dragon gave an impatient grumble as he snapped his head around to see if his rider was secured. After some fish, water, and a quick rubdown to soothe the knotted muscles, he was as ready to go. Well, as ready as he can get. Already, the dragon would be looking at a very sore body tonight and tomorrow.

Toothless leaped off the edge of the cliff and shot into the air with powerful beats of his wings. Out of the corner of his eye, Skuf could see the chief leaning down and forward with a small pair of leggings in his hand, no doubt Hiccup's, to give Skullcrusher a scent as a reference to track the captive. It was unnecessary as dragons have a perfect memory, but the large Viking made the mistake of leaning forward as the dragon pawed at the edge of the cliff, looking down... and down... and down. His face and knuckles turned white.

At a silent instruction from the Night Fury, over two hundred larger dragons and a hundred Terrible Terrors from the surrounding islands sprang into the air. Most of them stampeded off the edge of the cliff in a torrential rush, spreading their wings as they plunged over the edge to soar up into the sky. The Gronckles simply fluttered their little wings and ascended straight up to join the group, a mist of wings and scales rising from the ground.

Skuf worked the tail fin as he and Toothless led the dragons out towards the enemy fleet, high enough to be safe from arrows. Toothless took a moment to focus on finding Hiccup. His sensor lobes wiggled around to find the optimal position and instantly froze when he found his target. He could identify the unique signature of his rider, but there was something different about his hum, like he wasn't entirely "there". Still, there was no doubt and Toothless could tell which ship held the captive, so he shared all this with Skuf and the dragons so they would all know which ship to avoid damaging.

The dragon whisperer grinned with satisfaction. Things were working out even better than he planned. Not only were they able to find Hiccup before engaging the enemy, but Dagur, whose mental signature Toothless could recall from that night he stalked the forests of Berk, was on the same ship. Skuf had a personal score to settle with that devil. He also had quite a bit of firepower to work with. The dragons agreed to coordinate with Toothless and Skuf, but made it clear that they were here _only_ to save Hiccup because he saved them from the Red Death. They did not want to fight the Viking's war.

Using Toothless to relay his instructions, Skuf had the dragons cluster in a ring around the flagship that held Hiccup. With the exception of the Zipplebacks and Terrible Terrors, who shoot burning gas out of their mouth instead of some projectile or liquid fuel, Skuf told the dragons to fire some blasts straight down.

Hundreds of molten boulders, shards of burning magnesium, and globs of burning liquid fuel fell like hail. The sky below lit up to contest the brightness of the sun. Even with Toothless acting as a body-shield from anything below, the heat was almost unbearable. The fleet surrounding the flagship caught fire, spewing out billows of smoke. Any fireballs that hit the water hissed into a slowly rising mist. Even though the sun was high in the sky, the dragons now had a protective shroud to fight in, giving them a very significant advantage against the ranged attacks of arrows, bolas, ballistae, and catapults.

The curtain of smoke and fog helped, but it was only the start. Stoick was already diving in on Skullcrusher with the other riders and their dragons following behind. Skuf used Toothless to give instructions to all the dragons.

Skuf needed to form a perimeter around the flagship so that Stoick could secure it and free Hiccup without interference from the rest of the fleet. His plan was to focus all firepower on the ships surrounding it and maintain the veil of smoke and mist. Hopefully, the other ships will be forced to back off and maybe even return straight to home. The ring of surrounding ships around their target would certainly prevent all the enemy ships from converging, at least.

The Zipplebacks teamed up in pairs... well, two dragons, so four heads. Even after spending so many days following Barf and Belch, hearing them talk to each other - and themselves, and to the sun, the moon, and random trees and rocks - Skuf still wasn't sure how the math worked out in their minds. Regardless, the Zipplebacks were instructed to dive into the water, swim up to a ship, tear a hole in the hull, then spray their explosive gas inside and light it up. If they could not breach the hull, then they could simply swim a lap around the ship while spraying a ring of gas to detonate. They would then dive for cover and swim to the next ship.

With their bulbous bodies, strong legs, and smaller wings that can fold in tight, they were the most water worthy dragons in the group. The water would prevent the sparking head from lighting up the gas, but they could coordinate with any nearby dragon to ignite the gas for them.

The Gronckles were instructed to act as a distraction to the enemy Vikings. Taking advantage of their heavy scales, thick hide, and impressive maneuverability, they could flit around the ships above the decks, drawing the enemy's attention to themselves and taking out catapults and ballistae with the molten lava they spew out. As long as they keep on the swivel, they should be able to see ranged attacks coming and dodge out of the way.

The Monstrous Nightmares and Deadly Nadders were instructed to fly circles above the ships, laying down fire wherever the curtain of smoke and fog started to thin out. Monstrous Nightmares had large wings and impressive strength to pump them to help any downed dragons get back out of the water. Also, their wide swaths of fire would be perfect for burning ships and generating a lot of smoke. The Nadders, being agile and quick to react, could provide covering fire for any dragon under attack. Well, covering quill shots, at least. Also, their magnesium fire burns so hot that a shot into the water would produce a lot of steam and fog without putting the fire out, so they could also help keep up the veil.

The Terrible Terrors, being motivated by greed and competition, were divided into two teams to compete against each other: Team Terrible and Team Terror. They were instructed to set Vikings on fire for one point, grab their weapons and toss them into the sea for two points, or force a Viking overboard for three points. Making it a competition should motivate them to cooperate and encouraging them to disarm or force the enemy overboard instead of killing them should help lessen the political fireball that will surely ensue from this. Granted, some Vikings will drown and die from exposure to the cold, but many will survive and board a ship. They would be forced to shed their armor and weapons if they don't want to drown and would only distract their fellow warriors who would need to focus on hauling unarmed, shivering, soaking Vikings onto their ships.

Before the dragons even broke off to work on their attack plans, the enemy was already in a state of widespread panic and disarray as they were clearly unprepared for such a massive - and coordinated - dragon assault. Many ships were abruptly changing course to escape, but they were all packed in a tight formation. People shouted, ships collided and groaned, wood splintered, ropes snapped, masts fell. They practically defeated themselves with such a lack of coordination.

Skuf couldn't help but dwell on how this demonstrated what a wise, old swordsman once told him: "Victory does not favor the powerful, but the calm".

 _Svein, save me a seat in Valhalla._

With so much chaos in the enemy fleet, the dragons were hardly anything more than a symbol, a statement declaring, " _Warning, this property is guarded by fire-breathing dragons. Invade at your own risk."_

Once they were satisfied that the attack was going well, Skuf and Toothless descended to the deck of the flagship, where the fighting had already broken out. An enemy Viking sailed through the air in front of them and into the sea from a swipe of Skullcrusher's tail. Stoick pulled his crimson-stained sword out of a Murderous tribe warrior's abdomen. The twins moved their way across the deck with spears in hand and their Zippleback hissed and snapped at any enemies nearby. One Mystic tribe warrior was pinned up against the main mast, impaled by Stormfly's quills.

The moment they landed, Skuf quickly unhooked his riding harness and the Night Fury practically shook him off. He told Toothless to avoid direct contact with enemy Vikings unless he was able to blindside them. The Night Fury was deadly, especially with how angry he was with his rider and best friend held captive somewhere on this ship, but had very few options when it came to blocking and parrying.

Skuf, on the other hand, was quite content to handle direct attacks. He ducked under a powerful horizontal swing of a large ax from an Outcast warrior, jabbed his sword into the fool's abdomen, and jumped to the side as his opponent tried a desperate kick. The opponent fell with a heavy thud. With a foot on the ax handle, Skuf plunged his sword into his neck to grant him a quick death.

A cacophony of squawks and roars sounded out from a nearby ship.

KABOOM!

The ship exploded in a blooming ball of fire. The heat wave felt like it was sizzling the side of his face. Wooden debris fell down in a rain of fire and smoke, bouncing off the deck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Skuf could see Fishlegs performing quite admirably with his staff against a swordsman from the Lava Lout tribe. Like Berk, the Louts have had to contend with dragons so much they forgot what it's like to fight people and had no clue why someone would use a blunt stick as a weapon, nor why it was so effective. The burly rider, who was normally shy and timid, was showing an entirely different personality as he fought for the only Viking who truly respected him and actually appreciated his pedantic ways.

Fishlegs used his staff to knock the sword so hard his opponent stumbled and Skuf couldn't help but smile at the swift disarm that followed. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Fishlegs slammed his forehead into his opponent's nose and delivered a blow to the back of his helmet, stunning him from the impact. He then beat his shaken opponent in his ribs, back, and legs, shouting between blows, "THIS... IS... FOR... HICCUP!

With his opponent down, he said, "Wow, that was… that felt… so… _RAAAAAA_!"

Skuf grinned impishly. _It's amazing what proper motivation can do for someone. "I don't think I could do this in a real fight" my foot!_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a nearby ship that was wreathed in a cloud of green gas. Another cacophony of squawks and roars sounded out as dragons cleared the area. The gas erupted into flame, setting the entire ship on fire all at once and thickening the veil.

Both Thorston twins shouted in unison, "BERK NEEDS MORE ZIPPLEBACKS!"

Stoick faced down an opponent from the Berserker tribe. His sword was sheathed in blood and the crimson spattering along the rim of his shield showed proof of just how deadly the large man could be even with a blunt instrument. His opponent seemed to be scared as he almost tripped over the bloody corpse of one of his tribe. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the edge of the boat.

As if reading his thoughts, the chief shouted over to him, "You into the water or my sword into you!"

The Berserker warrior slowly backed up, but kept his sword and shield up in a defensive position. His face suddenly twisted into a smirk and Skuf noticed another Berserker sneaking up behind the chief. His sword was held horizontally against his side, tightly gripped in both hands with his offhand braced against the crossguard.

He was about to impale the chief!

Before Skuf could take a single step to stop him or even find something to throw, a blur of black streaked across the ship, sending the would-be backstabber sprawling to the deck with his sword skittering out of his grasp. His frantic screams for mercy fell on deaf ears as sharp teeth and claws mercilessly tore him to ribbons. The black dragon donned a red mask.

Skuf flinched at the sight. He had never seen this side of Toothless before, but such was the fate of those who stand between him and his rider. The gratuitous violence was so primal and ruthless that the record in the dragon manual, "Never engage this dragon. Your only chance: hide and pray it does not find you," just didn't seem to cut it.

At the first sign of danger from behind, Stoick jumped to the side to assess the situation, bringing his shield close to his shoulder with his sword arm held back. The opponent he was staring down dropped his weapon and shield and jumped overboard.

After dispatching the would-be assassin, Toothless stood there, panting, staring at the body and the bloody smear it left on the wood planks. Blood dribbled down his maw and he left red footprints with every step. Scanning the deck, he made eye contact with the chief and just stared at him.

"First time... since Hiccup freed you from the Red Death?" Stoick asked.

Toothless made no response, but just stood there, taking deep breaths, shifting his gaze between the chief and the corpse.

Stoick took a step towards the dragon to get his attention and said, "He got what he deserved. I owe you my life, Toothless. Again. Thank you."

The dragon gave a subtle nod as he held the chief's stare. Skuf could feel the conflicting emotions boiling off the dragon. The experience of the kill was so intense, so satisfying, so... familiar. It was a reminder of his time before Hiccup shot him down and freed him from the Red Death's mind snare. There was a little bit of guilt in there, too, most likely because his rider has always been working on getting his dragon to restrain his aggression and respond to everything with compassion.

Stoick seemed to pick up some sense of that from the dragon's behavior and said, "There's no guilt or shame in it, Toothless. He did not deserve a death so quick. Would you prefer to see _me_ die, instead?"

 _Quod erat demonstrandum_ , Skuf thought to himself. _It has been demonstrated._

Toothless huffed as he looked around for anything else he could do to help. The deck was clear of enemy warriors, except for one. The dragon, chief, and dragon whisperer all noticed the Berserker at the same time. He was standing off to the side of the battle, near the bow of the ship, calmly observing. The enemy raised his shield and sword into a defensive guard when he saw that his presence was noticed.

Skuf recognized this man and held a hand up to the chief, walked over, and squared against him.

"I _knew_ it," his opponent said. "You really _can_ control the beasts. Everyone thought it was just a party trick and wouldn't listen to me, but **_I_** knew better."

Skuf shrugged and rolled his eyes. He pointed an index finger up in the air, wiggling it back and forth next to his head, then gestured with his sword to the middle of his left calf, sliding the tip through the air down to the deck.

The opponent furrowed his eyebrows as he slowly drawled out, "Where... leg... oh, Hiccup. I'll tell you, but first tell me, are you taking prisoners? I will cooperate if you will not harm me."

Stoick stormed up, sword drawn in an aggressive stance, shouting, "You know where Hiccup is?! Tell me _NOW_ or I'll run you through!"

A loud crash from the far end of the ship commanded their attention for a moment. Skullcrusher reared up and smashed one of his forelegs through the hatch to the underside of the deck. Both he and Toothless gathered around the hole, staring down into the darkness below, snarling. Skuf started to sprint towards the dragons the moment he heard the noise.

The chief quickly snapped his attention back to the opponent. "Guess that answers my question. Into the water or my sword into you."

However, his opponent stood there, unflinching. "Chief Stoick, I am Throst, Dagur's second in command and am in line for chiefdom after his death, which is inevitable today. I think you will find my approach to this whole dragon situation to be much more diplomatic than any other Berserker who would take the chiefdom should anything happen to me. It would be in your best interest to allow me to take part in negotiating for the terms of surrender for this war, which I assure you I was against before we even set sail."

Stoick shrugged. "Fine. Disarm yourself and I swear you will not be harmed if you allow yourself to be held prisoner until we have taken control of this situation."

"Agreed."

Throst tossed his sword and shield to the side, unfastened his hand ax, and parted his gambeson to remove the two daggers strapped to his waist.

Stoick rolled his eyes. "All of it."

The Berserker grumbled as he bent down to remove the knife strapped to his calf, the bushcraft knife on his belt, the neck knife sheathed on a lanyard, and the six throwing knives along his ribs.

"There!" Throst spat out. "Happy?"

Stoick made no response. Throst sighed, fished brass knuckles from his pocket, and reached into his leggings to remove a shiv on the inside of his thigh.

"That it?" Stoick asked.

"Yes."

The chief held him with a hard stare. The Berserker rolled his eyes and removed a small pick and knife from his sleeve.

Satisfied, Stoick looked around for any allies nearby. Fishlegs was in the water, freeing a floundering Monstrous Nightmare entwined in bolas with his Gronckle, Meatlug, hovering around, scanning for threats. Astrid was midway down the length of the ship, towards the edge, helping Snotlout dress a wound he had on his arm. The deck beneath them did not show any signs of significant puddling, the wound must not be too substantial. The Thorston twins were near the middle of the ship with their two-headed Zippleback on their heels, eyes on the swivel for any threats, spears extending past their shields, ready to thrust anyone who would oppose them.

Stoick shouted over to them, "Ruff, Tuff, get over here!"

As the two riders and their dragon ran over, Stoick instructed them, "This is Throst of the Berserker tribe. We are taking him prisoner. Tie him up somewhere. If he makes any aggressive move or even gives you any lip, spike him, slash him, chop him, and roast him. And if you find any more blades on him, use them to castrate him."

Tuffnut grinned at Throst and said, "You were wise to surrender before the might of the world's most _deadly_ -OW!"

The chief smacked the twin's helmet with the flat of his shield in annoyance and set off to take care of the rest of the mission, breaking into a jog towards the stern of the ship where Skuf had already descended. He knew Hiccup was down there if both Toothless and Skullcrusher had tunnel vision on breaching that hatch. All he had to do was get himself down there.

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading!

I couldn't resist a homage to one of my favorite scenes in the movie, Oscar, when Throst was disarming himself.

Also, thanks for the comments, NitroExpress and 10Blue10. Ya, definitely heating up ha ha ha. In the next chapter, when Toothless sees Hiccup all drugged up, he says, "Hey, I want some!" Yeah, totally kidding, there.


	20. Fall

**20 - Fall**

Skuf skidded to a stop in front of the hatch to the cargo hold at the stern of the ship, where Skullcrusher and Toothless were peering in, growling angrily. He pushed Toothless aside - well, more like gestured with all his might - but Toothless compiled and sidled over.

It was very dark inside and someone below deck could be hiding out of sight, so Skuf asked Toothless to use his sensor lobes for some insight on this. Through mechanisms beyond his comprehension, sensations beyond his senses flared into focus, depicting the direction and distance of every sentient creature nearby, their emotional state, and a thousand other things only a dragon so attuned as a Night Fury could detect. Nobody was in what Skuf figured must be the cargo hold directly below. Skuf and Dagger were towards the middle of the ship, below deck, far too close to each other for any good news.

Confident in his safety for the moment, Skuf dove into the opening, grabbing the lip on the deck to control his descent. Upon landing, he drew his sword and scanned the surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the darkened area. The only light to see by was what filtered in from the hatch above. Various bits of weaponry and sail rigging were strewn about the perimeter. There were small doors toward the port, starboard, and stern of the ship. Must be storage closets. A larger door led towards the bow. The handle turned, but the door would not budge. Something must be blocking it from the other side.

THUMP!

Skuf's heart jumped and he whirled around in a blur, sword held out at his side, ready to face whatever intruder just jumped down behind him, only to see that it was Stoick. The chief pushed past to test the door. He took a few steps back and rammed his shoulder into it. The door held rock-solid.

Skuf looked up at the dragons peering in from above. _{Toothless, can you shoot a fireball at this door without starting a fire? Too much smoke could kill Hiccup and setting the whole ship ablaze will not help us.}_

Toothless confirmed it should be possible. To form the fireball, he swirls a slower-burning viscous gel around a highly volatile core that instantly explodes when the boundary is disrupted. Bigger core, thinner shell, more impact with less fire, if the dragon finagles things right. In theory, it would be simple enough and shouldn't explode inside the dragon's mouth. Toothless was pretty confident.

A moment later, the room darkened as a large, black, scaly head with red highlights plunged in from the ceiling, blocking most of the sunlight. Skuf got Stoick's attention, pointing to the dragon, then the door. He opened the closet door on the port side of the ship and motioned the chief inside. A moment later, the signature high-pitched shrieking of a Night Fury on a fire run could be heard, followed by a loud explosion and splintering wood.

Immediately, Stoick thrust the closet door open, bracing his shield against his shoulder, and charged at what remained of the locked door. He burst through, vision impaired from the smoke and dust, Skuf right on his heels. The only threat of fire was some glowing embers and wisps of flame. Nothing immediately threatening.

Skuf hastily cleared the plume of smoke, but what he saw instantly stopped his feet. Sunlight weakly filtered in through portholes along the sides of the ship in long, dusty streaks, illuminating Hiccup, tied to a chair, with Dagur standing above him holding a blade to his throat. A Terrible Terror in sorry shape whimpered out from where it lay on the floor, chained to Hiccup's ankle.

Stoick stood to the side, also restraining his desire to attack for fear of that blade going right in. There was no doubt it was very sharp - Berserkers pride themselves on the condition of their knives and daggers. Most even use them to trim their beards.

The groaning and splintering sound of wood under extreme duress sounded out behind them as the dragons fought to gain purchase within. Skuf heard the sound of the Night Fury charging up another shot.

While he couldn't even vocalize a squeak, he shouted as loud as he could with his projected thoughts. _{No more fire, Toothless! You will kill us with the smoke if you do that. Just use your teeth and claws.}_

"It's over, Dagur," Stoick shouted. "Your fleet burns, your assault failed. Your haste to attack us without provocation or even allowing for negotiations has been your downfall. Release Hiccup unharmed and I will show mercy. But if you harm him, by the gods, I will make you suffer so much you will _BEG_ for death before I grant you release."

Dagur smirked as he grabbed a handful of Hiccup's hair. The boy cried out in pain, then broke out in a drunken sort of laughter.

"What, you think I even _NEED_ your boy anymore, old man? I already got _EVERYTHING I WANT_ out of him! The drugs we developed to control the dragons failed miserably, but they worked magnificently on your son. I already sent out messenger pigeons. _EVERYONE_ already knew you control dragons and they all want some for themselves. Now they know... well, let's just say little _fish-bone_ , here, was _very_ talkative. You can sink this fleet, you can kill me, but you will not defeat _ALL_ the tribes united against you!"

Stoick took a step forward, but Dagur pressed the tip of his blade against Hiccup's neck. A little trickle of bright blood dribbled down to join a couple other slender rivulets.

Even if he could speak, Skuf wouldn't know what to say. Things were looking grim. There was no room to doubt that this deranged monster was half a thought away from killing Hiccup just to spite Stoick. To get the boy out of here alive would be a delicate walk along the edge of a knife.

However, Stoick displayed a wit that did not fit his image. Skuf could feel his emotional hum thrumming with focus and determination. It told the tale of a man who would not succumb to panic no matter how dire the circumstances. He not only put on a face that indicated he was in control of the situation, but he actually believed it, too.

"You're wrong about one thing, Dagur. I don't control the dragons."

He crossed his arms and spoke through a wide grin. "Skuf does."

Skuf blinked and shot a confused look at the chief for a moment, but then grinned as things slid into place in his mind. He could practically see the sawdust pouring out of Stoick's ears as he came up with a plan of action. Hiccup could not be rescued by brute force. One wrong move and he would be choking on his own blood. The only way he could survive this is if Dagur willingly released him. Politely asking wouldn't work. Dagur's a dead man and he knows it. They would need to give him a _reason_ to release Hiccup - pander to his pride and ambition and give him some sense of gain for doing so.

"Skuf?" Dagur asked, uncertainly, as if just noticing that Stoick wasn't alone. "But the Night Fury killed you. It dragged you off... unless..."

"Unless he _tamed_ the beast." Now Stoick wore the smirk. "It's a pity you didn't respect the Dragon Whisperer for the gift he is to the world. He must be blessed by Odin himself! With his unique ability, we rallied over three hundred dragons to rain down fire on your pathetic little fleet. Believe me, Dagur, this is hardly the beginning."

Dagur's breath hitched in his throat. His hand that held the blade against Hiccup's neck started to shake almost imperceptibly. Hiccup yelped as his head was jerked back by the hair. Dagur idly scraped the blade along Hiccup's throat. Skuf could sense the pure, murderous hatred in Stoick, but the chief did an admirable job of maintaining his outward composure.

"Bad idea, Dagur. You see, I'm here for Hiccup. If you kill him, then I have no reason to stay. And I'll _PISSED!_ As will all the dragons. I am not leaving until you release Hiccup, but-"

An explosion rocked the entire ship and orange light flared through all the portholes on the starboard side. A rain of debris could be heard impacting the deck above and splashing all around.

"Well," Stoick said, gesturing to the destruction that claimed another ship, "Let's just say you're at the end of your rope. I am a reasonable man, but, well, let's just say your little fleet here is only the tip of the iceberg if you give me reason to lash out. Release Hiccup and I give you my word there will be no retaliation. We can all put this behind us. I'll even let you go home."

Stoick extended his right hand. He didn't dare take any steps to close the gap. There was a long pause. Nobody said anything or made any move.

CRACK!

The dragons, though, were not so patient. The entire door frame shattered away from the wall as Skullcrusher charged through. Both dragons roared and snarled at the enemy. Toothless was spitting mad, but heeded Skuf's frantic plea to keep a distance and let them use diplomacy. If he were to charge in, then Dagur would have nothing left to lose and that would be the end of Hiccup.

At long last, Dagur burst out laughing. "HA! HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA! Oh, Stoick, you funny funny man." His expression instantly turned somber and serious. "You're a fool. I know you're not the benevolent sort. Why should I trust you?"

"I give you my word," Stoick said in a mildly hurt tone of voice.

Dagur dragged the tip of his dagger along Hiccup's collarbone and twisted a handful of hair, drawing out a pained yelp. "I'll think about it."

Stoick scowled in a heroic attempt to contain his rage. "Dagur, come now. Either we both lose or we both win. As much of a sacrifice as it is, I would let you go if I get what I want. All I'm asking you to do is meet me halfway and make a similar sacrifice by yielding Hiccup for your life. I never wanted conquest and Hiccup had been begging me to teach other tribes how to befriend dragons. I give you my word your Berserkers will learn how to befriend dragons as we have. You will gain dragon riders through mutual cooperation, but not through conquest."

Dagur paused in thought for a moment.

However," Stoick continued, "If you harm Hiccup any more, it's not just _you_ who will suffer the consequences. I counted the tribal crests and ships. About four thousand warriors, right? That would account for almost every able fighter. Our dragons are hardly put out from this little skirmish. Everything you built up, I will burn down in a single day."

"However, it doesn't have to be that way. Let him go and I swear to the gods that I will send the dragons back to their nests and keep only the seven that have riders on my island. I will allow what remains of your fleet to return unhindered. The casualties are actually very low; it's the ships that suffered the most and we've burned maybe twenty surrounding this one. Most of your fleet is still intact as long as I hold back my dragons."

" _YOUR_ dragons? Pah! Eat shit and _DIE_ , worm! Skuf controls them. You just whisper sweet nothings in his ear to gain his cooperation. What did he promise you, Skuf? Money? Fame? The ugly whores on Berk? There is nothing for you on that backwards, run-down _ARMPIT OF THE ARCHIPELAGO_?!"

Skuf drew his sword in a flash and held it out at arms-length, tip pointed between Dagur's eyes. This was precisely the cue he was waiting for and it didn't come a moment too soon. Dagur was a breath away from just killing Hiccup in his building rage as he knew he was not leaving this situation alive. Even if he made it back to Berserker island, the fate awaiting the leader of such a massive failed assault would be far more torturous than a quick death by steel or fang here on this ship. It was already clear he was content to become a martyr, but a martyr needs to accomplish _something_ with his death. He needed the promise of gain to his cause, some form of a carrot dangled from a stick in front of him.

The deranged chief was losing confidence fast. He wore a confident smirk on his face, but it wasn't enough to fool someone who could hear the unspoken words. He wouldn't be satisfied with how things could end right now. Killing Hiccup wouldn't be the fulfillment of his desires, only a last-ditch jab at his enemy on his way down. Skuf realized where to find the carrot to dangle in front of Dagur.

"C'mon, Skuf," Dagur pleaded with overplayed bravado. "Don't let this spineless bastard _USE_ you. The Berserker tribe is your _HOME_. We are your _FAMILY_. If _any_ tribe has the right to command the dragons, it's _US_! We have not forgotten what being a Viking is about. We have not _PISSED on our ancestors' GRAVES_ as Berk has. Join me, Skuf. Together, we... shall..."

Skuf cut him off by taking an aggressive step forward. Stoick put a hand on Skuf's arm and said, "You don't have to do this. Hiccup is _my_ son. I'll…"

He stopped, though, as Skuf slowly shook his head. There was no other way. To Dagur, Stoick represented just one more tribe to conquer. On the other hand, Skuf represented that power Dagur so desperately craved. He represented the power that defeated this army.

 _Besides, Nobody gets to kill this devil but me. This is for you, Svein._

He motioned with his sword to Hiccup, then tapped his knuckles against the flat of the blade. Hopefully, Hiccup's interrogation didn't reveal just how impossible it would be to get the dragons to do any more than they have done already. Skuf was using himself as the carrot and, if Dagur knew that all this was a bluff, that carrot would become worthless and Hiccup would die.

Dagur's emotional hum told it all, though. He recognized the threat in the story Stoick was weaving together and felt like he had been forced into a corner and had only one course of action. Killing Hiccup no longer seemed as appetizing as the carrot standing in front of him. A dual against the dragon whisperer would force his hand if he survived it or deprive Stoick of such a powerful ally if he didn't. Killing Hiccup would rob Dagur of both options and he knew it.

"Fine," he spat out. "A duel. First you, then that spineless bastard who has beguiled you. It's good to see that Stoick hasn't beaten _ALL_ of our honorable traditions out of you, yet!

Skuf held a level stare, but was internally shaking his head. _You do not know honor, only greed._

Dagur kicked over the chair Hiccup was tied to, sheathed his dagger, and drew his sword. Toothless snarled at the sight of his rider being so unceremoniously discarded and coiled up to lunge, but Stoick jumped in the way, smacking the dragon's shoulder to get his attention.

"Easy there, Toothless. Let them have their duel. Watch my back while I get Hiccup to a safer spot."

Low, rumbling growls from the dragons filled the room as Skuf and Dagur squared against each other. Skuf shot a wide grin at Stoick, whose quick wit and silken tongue carried the day. It would be a pleasure to be the one to put Dagur down for good and the fact that doing so has saved Hiccup only made it all the better.

Saving Hiccup, after all, was the sole driving motive for everything he had done today. That boy saw what no other Viking ever saw in dragons, even when he was deaf to them.

Skuf took a moment to assess his opponent. Dagur had the advantage of reach with a longer sword and limbs. This could also work against him, too, as they were fighting in an enclosed space where the shorter duelist would have more space to swing his shorter sword before hitting the ceiling.

Dagur also had a very substantial strength advantage. He wasn't as large as Stoick, but Skuf knew it would be suicidal to pit his own strength directly against Dagur's. In addition, Dagur was in his mid-thirties and has had significant combat experience, so Skuf had to remind himself that he probably couldn't get away with any cheap tricks that he used against others in the past. Sparring and dealing with ruffians was simply an inferior combat experience.

Still, Skuf felt confident as he positioned his sword into a defensive stance, hand near his hip, tip pointed directly at Dagur's eyes.

 _You will regret discounting this soothsayer sword-dancer, fool_.

Dagur also assumed a defensive stance and seemed to be calmly waiting for his opponent to make the first move. This worried Skuf as most of his opponents in sparring or in the fight on top of the deck were very aggressive and he was comfortable simply dodging and deflecting, allowing his opponent to give him an opportunity to land a hit.

He took a couple deep breaths and focused his thinking. Settling on a method of approach, Skuf feinted a thrust, but pulled back before Dagur could knock his blade to the side. Dagur anticipated this and did not commit much strength to the swing of his own sword and instantly recovered. The two duelists continued to prod at each other in this manner, taking conservative swings, but avoiding any contact, feeling out each other's abilities and tendencies. Throughout it all, an angry Hooligan chief and two angry, growling dragons made sure the fight didn't stray too close to Hiccup.

"You can save yourself a lot of pain," Dagur said as they slowly circled about each other. "Just tell the dragons to _BLAST_ Stoick to bits and you can be freed from his shackles. Berk is nothing more than a _PISS POT_. You are no more than a _PAWN_ under Stoick's shadow. You and I, though, can rule the arctic - _TOGETHER_! We would be _EQUALS_! You would be rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams! If we control the dragons, _WHO_ can stand against us?"

A feinted thrust was the only response the mute gave. There was no need to play nice now that Hiccup was safe. The sooner Dagur dies, the better.

 _The way you shout is giving me a headache, you deranged fool. Just quit preaching and die for me, already!_

As they took tentative jabs and knocked attacks to the side, Dagur continued his tirade. "If you cast your lot with Stoick, he will only _DRAG YOU DOWN_ , Skuf. He will only make you _WEAK_. You either rule over others or are ruled by somebody else. It is the natural order for the _strong_ to dominate the _weak_ , and nature has _NO MORALS!_ Join me, Skuf. together, we shall _RULE_ the arctic! No, the entire _WORLD_!

Skuf slowly shook his head. There will always be war. It is part of human nature, but dragons will not be the catalyst for it. Even if he controlled the dragons, which he couldn't, his personal vendetta against Dagur was too deeply seated to simply let the bastard go.

 _Your demise was set in motion when you killed a good man for selfish gain. Oswald was always a greater chief than you could ever hope to be._

Sometimes, Skuf really wished he wasn't mute.

Finally, Skuf committed to an actual attack. He thrust his sword forward and twisted out of the riposte. He landed a fist in Dagur's side and leaped away to dodge a desperate kick. His lips curled as he watched Dagur regain his footing. It was a rookie mistake to put himself in such a position in the first place. Taking your feet off the ground is never worth the risk.

 _Don't disappoint me with an easy kill, you greedy backstabber._

Skuf feinted forward. Dagur drew back. Their blades did not connect, but Dagur used his momentum to press into Skuf's space. He slashed in a downward arc that Skuf met with his blade, allowing it to slide past the tip as he quickly shifted to the side.

The two duelists continued to strike out at each other with relatively safe moves. Nothing was ever accomplished. Skuf was always forced to twist to the side and avoid a contest of strength. Dagur was too fast to allow himself to take any hits. On top of it all, Dagur snuck in a punch below the ribs that twinged with every movement. Skuf simply focused on gaining the upper hand in stamina. Since Dagur wasn't falling for the usual tricks, the only way to win was to outlast him.

Both combatants became quite frustrated with each other. They were breathing hard and dripping with sweat in the cold air. Every swing was dodged or deflected. Every grab was quickly released to avert the enemy's blade. Nobody made any progress and both duelists were shaking from the exertion. Skuf could feel his heart thudding in his temples. His wrists cried out for reprieve from the abuse they've taken. He idly spat out some sweat that dripped onto his lips in irritation.

The time for one-sided banter with a mute was passed. This had to end now.

 _I will piss on your grave!_

Skuf pressed into a swing and pulled back just in time to parry Dagur's own thrust. They continued to whirl around each other, prodding for any sort of weak spot to exploit. Skuf's arms were shaking and Dagur had that annoying smirk on his face. The bastard was also exhausted, but had no fear in pressing the offensive.

Dagur lunged forward in a downward sweep. It was a feint and Skuf could tell. He brought his sword up, but jumped out of the way. Continuing the motion, Skuf swung his own sword at the opening left by Dagur, who was forced to twist to the side and hastily deflect the blow. He stumbled off balance just enough for Skuf to spin his sword around and drive it into the wrist of his opponent's sword arm. Even through the leather gauntlet, Skuf committed all his strength and Dagur's sword fell out of his grasp.

 _Be glad for a death swifter than you deserve, monster!_

Before the sword could even clatter on the floor, Skuf lunged forward, thrusting into Dagur's belly. He tucked his head down low and weathered the blows from Dagur's forehead into the top of his skull. His face flushed and his breathing became ragged and harsh as he twisted his sword and wiggled it up and down, increasing the damage done by the blade.

 _It is done. I have avenged you, Oswald._

Victory was achieved. Dagur was gushing, his insides torn to shreds. However, it wasn't until Skuf saw the smirk on Dagur's face that he looked down to see a blade impaling his own torso. That bastard used his last bit of his adrenaline-induced strength to grab his dagger with his off-hand and thrust it into Skuf's belly, twisting it around maliciously.

Skullcrusher roared in anger. Dagur continued to smirk at his opponent, maniacal laughing giving way to wet coughs. The two duelists spent the next moment simply tearing each other's insides apart before stumbling backward to fall to the ground and slowly fade away.

Skuf could feel Skullcrusher's dread and frustration. _{You silly fool! I could have easily killed him for you! That blade will take your life!}_

Skuf looked up at his dragon as he fought to hold on to consciousness a little longer. _{I did this to myself. I allowed my hatred to control me and now it has destroyed me. Remember this lesson, my friend. Hate can control and destroy. It is a Red Death that every creature carries in his heart. I should not have allowed myself to be driven by hatred and now I pay the price.}_

Hatred was Dagur's Red Death, too. He was consumed with a lust for more and more power. He hated anyone who had something he didn't. He resented those who had any semblance of power over him. That's why he hated the Hooligans and tried to wipe them out.

 _And my hatred for Dagur and the terrible things he has done was_ my _Red Death, too, and it has killed me._

Through his fading vision, Skuf could see Stoick kneel down over him to inspect the damage. There was no room for doubt that he would not survive this. However, his greatest regret was leaving Skullcrusher alone. The dragon would be taken care of on Berk and free to fly off on his own if he chooses. However, he has always needed an opponent to defeat or a challenge to overcome and Skuf really enjoyed finding useful ways to fulfill that need.

Seeing where Skuf's attention was focused, Stoick said, "Don't worry about Skullcrusher. He'll always have a home on Berk so long as he wishes to stay. You know that. You fought well, Skuf. I pray that Odin will grant you speedy passage to Valhalla. Your deeds will not be forgotten. You... you..." Stoick choked back the tears. "You saved my son!"

Skuf coughed up blood and looked up at the chief. Skullcrusher rested his head on the floor next to Skuf and whined. Skuf reached over and wrapped his fingers around the dragon's nostrils. His frustration ebbed and was replaced by a feeling of calmness and peace as he slowly drifted away.

It wasn't so bad, he decided. The pain was mind-numbing, but it would be over, soon.

After all, there was still a political fireball to face. It was none other than the dragon whisperer who got all these dragons involved. Stoick and Hiccup could freely pin all the blame on him. Then again, how would they know he'd gladly accept the blame in death?

A thought suddenly came to mind and Skuf fought to stay awake a little longer. _{Skullcrusher, I want Hiccup and Stoick to blame everything on me. Tell them that I demand it as my dying wish. I want them to put as much blame as possible on me.}_

Skullcrusher whined. _{What will I do without you? You gave me direction and guidance. I cannot lose you!}_

Skuf settled his head to the ground and fought to keep his eyes open as darkness crept in from the edge of his vision.

 _{Do as we have always done. Find something worth protecting. Find something worth fighting for. I would recommend you avoid dying, though. It hurts a lot.}_

Skuf's last thought before darkness overtook him gave him consolation with how things turned out. Hiccup was safe. Dagur was dead. Berk now has an alibi that cannot be interrogated.

 _It is better this way._

* * *

 **A/N:**  
Thanks for reading! Also, thank you for all the encouragement, 10Blue10! Writing is a lot of fun all by itself, but I always love hearing from a reader about all things good, bad, and in between. If you would like to comment, I have only one request. Please don't spoil any surprises for any future readers.


	21. A Big Mess

**21 - A Big Mess**

For a moment, Stoick just stared, motionless. Everything was one giant, stinking mess. Not just a chaotic mess of battle. A political mess. A moral mess.

Dragons flew above, unseen from within the dim cargo hold. No doubt, many ships had turned tail to scatter to warn their respective tribes that Berk has a massive dragon army - which will disband very soon if it hasn't already - now that Hiccup was secure. Before the attack, the dragons used Tofa as a translator to make it very clear they had absolutely no interest in fighting Berk's battles. They just wanted to rescue Hiccup since he is a sort of savior to them. No doubt there would never be such a repeat performance.

Of course, nobody else knew this. Next year, there will be an even larger armada launched against Berk with warriors from even more tribes united against the "big, bad dragon-hoarding Hooligans." It was all just a giant, stinking mess.

Stoick was startled out of his reverie by something warm and wet clamping over his arm and tugging. Toothless whined as he tried to get the only nearby creature with opposable thumbs to help his rider. Despite how prideful the dragon can be, he knew that there were some things for which his slobber was insufficient.

The chief shook himself free from the toothless maw. His son needed attention, but Stoick was a man of tradition. He watched Skuf exhale for the last time and placed a hand on his face, closing his eyelids. He was too young. Simply too young to die like this.

The duel was something Stoick never saw coming, but once declared, was honor-bound to let it run its course. In retrospect, it was a brilliant move from Skuf as every other scenario would have ended with Dagur slicing HIccup's throat in defiance. Dagur was dead and he knew it, whether he died today or went back home to die to his angry tribesmen and allies. A man who has nothing left to lose will give just as much. The challenge to a duel was a last-ditch attempt to offer some allure for Dagur to cooperate and release Hiccup. It worked like a charm, but... Skuf...

"Odin, be gentle with his soul," Stoick intoned "He was a strong warrior in life and he gave selflessly, even to the end of death."

Skullcrusher rose up and shoved the chief out of the way to nuzzle his dead rider. Stoick allowed it. On further consideration, he blamed himself for Skuf's death. The story he had woven about a dragon army seemed like a good idea at first, but good ideas don't get good men killed. He ended up attacking Dagur's pride and that was all the deranged man had left when standing on a ship surrounded by angry enemies. Such an error in tactics almost cost his son's life.

 _Would have, could have, should have. Put your hand to the plow and look ahead._

Stoick puffed out a sigh as he carefully removed the dagger that was still embedded in Skuf's torso and stood up to take in his surroundings. Dagur was already dead. Toothless was pining over Hiccup, who was still laying on the floor, but now unbound. A sky blue Terrible Terror was shackled by its neck to Hiccup's good ankle. The poor thing was in bad shape.

Skullcrusher took in a deep breath and gave out the loudest, most heart-wrenching, soul-piercing mourning wail that sent chills down Stoick's spine. The chief placed a large hand on the dragon's snout. Skullcrusher allowed it and, in fact, leaned into it with a heavy sigh.

"He was a good man, Skullcrusher. I'm sorry you have to endure such loss. I know how it feels. It's like a great, yawning gap stretching across your shoulders, like your very heart has been torn out of your chest and crushed in front of your eyes. You feel like you're being crushed under a great weight and nothing can save you. It is natural to grieve, but do not despair. So long as Skuf is remembered, he is not truly lost to this world."

Skullcrusher just thumped his head against the decking and laid there against his rider's side. Stoick gathered his wits and moved over to his son. The dragon may want to be alone with his fallen rider, anyway. It was only proper to give some space for a warrior to mourn the loss of someone he loved and it was starting to feel less awkward to extend such considerations to a dragon as well.

Hiccup's condition was not looking good. Bruises, whip marks, lacerations, and puffed and torn skin told a tale of the poor boy's interrogation. Amazingly, he had no broken bones save one rib on his right side. He still had all his teeth and none of them felt loose, but the physical injuries were not what really worried Stoick. Something they put in him had his eyes dilated, his mouth drooling, and his hand-eye coordination on par with a one-year-old.

The Terror chained to Hiccup whimpered. It had a splint on one wing and leg, but the other wing was also broken and undressed. The Berserkers surely didn't put those splints on, so it must have been Hiccup's work. Stoick decided he would take care of the Terror along with the boy.

He hefted his ax and looked down at the little dragon. "Hold still, Terror."

The dragon panicked and tried in vain to flee. A bark from Toothless silenced it's screeching and it just curled up, trembling. Stoick took careful aim with his ax and struck the chain. There was a loud CLINK and a chain link tore enough for Stoick to work it loose and free the Terror, which just huddled in a corner. There were still steel clasps around Hiccup's ankle and the Terror's neck, but it was good enough for now.

"Heeeeee diiiiiiieed," Hiccup said as he slowly rolled his head around. "Aaaaiiii Miiiisssss Hiiimmmm allllllreeeeeadyyyyy."

Stoick got Hiccup into a kneeling position and said, "Sorry, son, but I have to do this. Gotta get rid of whatever they put in you."

He cradled his son's head in one hand and rammed a finger down his throat. Hiccup's eyes bulged as he choked and Stoick leaned him forward to evacuate his stomach onto the decking.

Toothless growled, but Stoick calmly looked over at the dragon and said, "Quit your whining. I don't know what drugs they put in Hiccup, but this is the best way to flush out his system."

Astrid burst into the room, out of breath, ax in hand. A few Terrible Terrors were clinging to her shoulders and arms with one even perched on her ax head, licking up the blood, tail wrapped around the handle. They were probably Tofa's Terrors. The girl ended up living with the Hoffersons and the dragons took a liking towards her adopted sister.

Astrid looked around the room in shock. She took in Skuf and Dagur laying on the ground, dead, blood seeping all over the decking, Skullcrusher quietly mourning over the loss of his rider, the Terrors flitting over to nuzzle Skuf's limp hand and giving their own sad croons, and the injured blue one in the corner. Her eyes ended up resting on Hiccup, who was on his hands and knees, coughing out any remains in his mouth, crying or laughing or something in between his stupor.

"Astrid," the chief called out, focusing her attention on him. "I need water. A full skin's worth. Go find some for me."

However, the girl just continued to stare at Hiccup in utter shock. Now was not the time to mourn. Now was the time to make sure Hiccup pulls through with minimal setbacks. Now was the time for the shieldmaiden to distract herself with duties instead of emotionalism.

"ASTRID!" Stoick bellowed. "WATER!"

"But... what-"

"NOW!"

That shook Astrid out of her shock and she turned around without a word and ran out. It was for her own good. She would thank him for keeping her from wallowing in sorrow. She was just that kind of person - an exemplary young warrior.

A moment later, she returned with a full waterskin, uncapping it as she handed it to the chief. "What happened to him?"

Stoick raised Hiccup up from his hands and knees, setting him down against the wall in a seated position. He then took the waterskin and had Hiccup drink. Water dribbled down the sick boy's chin as he gulped it down with a giddy expression on his face.

"He's been... poisoned. I need to flush out his stomach." Then, turning to Toothless, he said, "I know it hurts to watch, but try to find something useful to do. It's the best way to deal with this situation. Find something else to occupy your attention."

Stoick continued to make Hiccup drink water, gently prodding at his belly to gauge how full it was. By the time the skin was almost empty, Stoick decided it was enough and got Hiccup to his knees again, forcing him to regurgitate once more. Toothless' whining went up in pitch and volume as his rider spewed the water and anything else in his stomach to the flooring.

The chief stole a glance up at Astrid. "Hiccup will be fine. I'll take him to Gothi. I need you to go check on how the dragons are doing. Find a way to tell them that Hiccup has been secured. Then go..."

His voice drifted off as he noticed that Toothless had stopped his whining. The Night Fury was emitting some sort of guttural thrum with his eyes closed in concentration and the flaps crowning his head pulsating and twitching.

"Nevermind about talking to the free dragons," Stoick said. "Looks like our scaly wonder is doing that for us. Is your dragon flight-worthy?"

"Yessir."

"Good. Go check on Berk. I want to know what happened on our shores. If the enemy is present, don't engage, just observe from safety. And have someone find out how many deaths and injuries we have with our riders and all the dragons here."

Astrid gave a sharp nod with a "Yes, chief!" She was about to turn around to head out, but first took a step forward and crouched down to gently put a hand on Hiccup's cheek and peck a quick kiss on his forehead. The boy didn't even seem to notice, gazing at the wall across the room as if those wooden slabs were the most amazing thing in the world. With a resigned sigh, Astrid jogged out of the room and disappeared out of the jagged hole that used to be a doorway.

Most of the Terrors chirped and took off after her, but an orange one lingered to give Skullcrusher a lick and a nuzzling to the snout. The large dragon warbled and licked the Terror back, grateful for the show of sympathy. Given the size difference, it looked like he was eating the little thing for a moment before the Terror squirmed, preened, and licked him again before flying off after Astrid.

Stoick shifted his eyes over to stare at Toothless, gently placing a hand on the side of the dragon's head. Toothless leaned into the hand and gave out a long, rumbling sigh.

"While you're at it, tell the dragons they have my immeasurable gratitude. We could not have done this without them and," Stoick chuckled, lightly, "I have absolutely no clue how I can reward them and show how much this means to me."

Turning to Hiccup, he said, "We need to get you out of here, son. Can you walk?"

Hiccup shakily stood up, supported by his father, but clenched his side in pain.

"Ooowwwww... myyyy riiiiiiiib huuuuurtsssss."

Stoick smiled. "You'll be fine, son. I'll carry you. You'll be back in action before you know it."

Hiccup lurched forward to land a light punch on the side of his dragon's neck. "Thaaaaat'sss fooorrr scaaaaariiiinnng mmmmeeeee."

Toothless' whining turned into a warbling groan. With a big, goofy grin on his face, Hiccup leaned heavily on the Night Fury's head, draping his arms around. The spots of blood that hadn't dried on the scales stained the boy's tunic and Toothless eyed the blood, whined, licked at it, and whined some more because it would not come out. Stoick thought it was silly for the dragon to feel that way about his kill on that Berserker up above. It was a very productive way for the hyperactive and enraged dragon to release his fury on a clear and present threat. If there was ever one disservice Hiccup did for his dragon, it was to repress the beast's natural aggression instead of simply guiding it towards a useful purpose.

With a heroic effort, Hiccup lifted his cheek off the dragon's snout and pecked a rather awkward kiss on the forehead, giggling like a child. It was a quick, joyful sort of gesture, like when a farmer would kiss his yak for winning the plow drag race at the Thawfest games - and then spit out the hair and grime with instant regret.

"Aaaannnnd thaaat'sssssss fooorrrr beeeiiinnngggg aaamaaaziiinnnng."

Hiccup went completely slack, draped over Toothless' snout like a sack of potatoes. The dragon whined and lowered his rider to the floor, looking at Stoick with worry in his eyes. The chief rolled Hiccup onto his back and checked his vitals. His heart and breath were there: delicate, but still present. Gently, he picked up his son to carry him to the top of the deck.

"Don't worry," Stoick said, casting a glance at Toothless, following on his heels. "He's fine; just passed out. He needs the rest while his body works all this shit out of his system."

########

* * *

########

Throst idly watched a young female Hooligan climb up to the deck and bark some orders at the pudgiest of all the riders, apparently named Fishlegs. The girl then proceeded to jump off the edge of the ship and snatch the leg of a blue Nadder that leaped after her. The dragon beat its wings once to gain some height and rolled along the axis of its tail. The girl was flung up from the motion and landed on the dragon's back as it righted itself and the two flew towards Berk. A small flock of Terrible Terrors darted after her.

One of the other riders - her twin brother called her Ruff - shouted, "Show-off!"

Off to the side, a very large, blood red Monstrous Nightmare deposited an Injured Zippleback on the deck. Moments ago, one of the Zippleback's necks was impaled by a ballista bolt and pinned to the side of a ship with its body dragging in the water. The other head managed to snap off the tail of the spear and the impaled neck was able to slide off. Usually, slicing one neck would kill the entire beast, but it seemed someone had tied a tourniquet below the gaping wound to close off the esophagus so that its lungs wouldn't drown in blood.

Throst had seen some strange things, but the Monstrous Nightmare that dropped off the Zippleback proceeded to flop onto its side and squeeze the injured Zippleback's neck in a chokehold between its thighs. At least, that's what it would have _looked_ like, but it was… was it really… no way. It was really using pressure from the insides of its thighs to stop the bleeding. As hard as that was to believe, there could be no other explanation.

Throst sighed and bumped the back of his head against the mast at his back. He wasn't restrained as there simply was no need. He was the only Berserker on the ship and was surrounded by angry dragons. All the scaly beasts had only growling and hissing for him, but they didn't attack. In fact, though Stoick had told these witless twins to watch him, they actually ended up stepping between him and any angry dragons to keep _them_ from killing _him_.

Trying to run away would be pointless. Even if he made it off the ship and into the water, there was nowhere to go. Surrounding the flagship was maybe twenty burning wreckages of what used to be longboats. Beyond that, through the parting smoke, Throst could see that the remnants of the fleet had dispersed and scattered, no doubt fleeing back to home.

Stoick appeared from the ragged hole the dragons had torn to access the hold below. He had what was supposed to be the Berserker's hostage and bargaining chip, Hiccup, slung over his shoulder. He gently set the boy down and turned towards the prisoner.

Throst couldn't help himself from asking, "Is Dagur-"

"Dead," the chief impatiently interrupted.

"And Skuf, too, I bet?"

"Yes," Stoick said. "Quite the vendetta, I suppose?"

"Yes. I didn't see it at the time, but Skuf must have sworn vengeance for Oswald the Agreeable's death. He liked that old man and it hit him hard. Actually, the vendetta probably for the old man's chief of guard. It was a messy coup and Dagur had a penchant for humiliating and torturing his enemies before killing them."

The chief scoffed. "Oswald was a good man and you squat in the shadow of his boot. The world became a little darker when he breathed his last. Quite a mess you mutts managed to make and all because you wanted to have control over others."

The Night Fury, Hiccup had called it Toothless, leaped up to the deck.

Throst scoffed. "With such a dragon army, I think we had a _right_ to be concerned, though I would have approached it differently than this. You practically summoned this armada by your own actions. If you release me, I'll be next in line for chief. The concerns of every tribe in the Archipelago seem to be well-justified, but I would resort to words before steel. Perhaps we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial agreement."

The dragon sniffed at its rider, making some sort of crooning sound.

"Ha!" Stoick laughed. "If you did try talking to us, you would have seen how full of shit you all are. Now go-"

A heavy weight slammed into Throst's chest. Wide eyes locked onto a black dragon above. Anger and hatred poured out of those slit pupils. Claws sunk into his gambeson, hauled him up, and slammed him against the deck. The impact stunned Throst and the beast pounced again, slamming its paw into his face and ribs, viciously clawed at his armor, and dragged tears in his flesh. Throst was vaguely aware of the chief trying to intervene and stumbling when the dragon shoved him aside.

The claws sunk into his gambeson and hauled him up once more, this time pinning him to the mast under the paw of its foreleg. Taut tendons rippled the scaly hide in the neck, Pure fury could be seen in its eyes. It reared back and opened its mouth wide. Sharp teeth filled its jaw. Throst knew he was about to die.

His death didn't come, though. The dragon snapped its jaws shut and stared off to the side. Throst groggily followed the dragon's gaze, willing the world to stop spinning. He saw the prone form of Hiccup, now awake, staring at his pet dragon through half-lidded eyes with a goofy grin on his face.

The Night Fury roared in Throst's face and let him slump to the ground. It then proceeded to sprint around the ship, run up the main mast - claws tearing chunks of wood along the way - dig its claws into the sail to slide down as it tore under his weight, run up the mast again, and bite down on the wooden gaff that supported the sails, swinging around by its teeth. It then launched itself into the air to dive into the water, leaped up on the other side of the boat, and continued like this for a while until it collapsed to exhaustion, curled around its rider, finally worn out.

Throst would have asked what in Odin's name just happened, but breathing was a difficult task with the abuse on his neck from one of the dragon's swipes.

"Damn, Toothless," Stoick grumbled. His breath hitched as he inspected Throst. "Huh. Guess I gotta hand that overgrown lizard credit where due. He sure has a sense of poetic justice. I'm guessing you're the one who initially captured Hiccup?"

Throst didn't answer. He just focused on inspecting his injuries and tried to rub his throat to make breathing less difficult.

The chief flicked a smile. "Toothless blames you for what happened to his rider. Eye for an eye. Ear for an ear. Every injury you and your cronies gave Hiccup, the dragon gave you. Good thing he didn't follow through with killing you or the irony would have been lost on you. You owe Hiccup your life. He literally just saved your life by simply being awake to stop his dragon."

Throst said, "Maybe he did. So what, am I supposed to tell everyone to simply hope and pray that your dragon master will continue on as our benevolent overlord?"

Stoick rolled his eyes. "You demonstrate your ignorance admirably. I'll call for a Thing soon and explain it to all the neighboring chieftains at once. For now, just know that you know absolutely nothing about dragons."

Stoick turned to walk away when Fishlegs landed and jumped off his Gronckle.

"Zero casualties, sir," the boy said. "Snotlout has a gash on his arm, but that was the only rider injury and it's not crippling. There are some injured dragons. That Zippleback with the impaled neck was the worst of it, thank Thor, and they'll be fine. Aside from that, a couple pulled muscles or dislocated wing joints from hitting the water. A dozen have minor injuries from spears and blades and one Monstrous Nightmare took a hit that really worries me, but I expect he should recover. There are five dragons in total who cannot fly themselves out of here. They want to rest on this ship for now while they heal up. First Contact asked if we could bring some fresh water for those who cannot fly at the moment. The dragons can provide food, though, since-"

He was cut off by a wet slapping sound of a dead shark landing on the deck right next to him. The rider looked down at it with a grimace.

"Eew." Then, looking at his dragon as it settled down next to the shark and nuzzled its rider, said, "Nice catch, Meatlug! Way to provide and take care of others. Oh, it was _attacking_ one of the downed dragons? Well, good riddance! Is the dragon... Oh, good!"

Turning back to the chief, he said, "Anyway, the dragons like my idea, but I need your approval, sir. We could-"

"Fishlegs," Stoick breathed in disbelief.

"... row this ship to dock in our harbor and bring them water barrels and-"

"FISHLEGS!"

"Oh, uhhh… sorry?"

Stoick furrowed his eyes at the burly teen. "You can hear the dragons talk, now?"

A large, goofy grin worked its way across Fishlegs' face. "Yessir! I started to hear Meatlug talking to me a couple days ago. It was _so cool_! Like she didn't have a voice, but I could just somehow... _know_ what she was saying. It's like my empathetic relationship with her shot up, like, _twenty_ points instantly! She spent, like, _all_ day asking me questions about why we love stew so much and how I can balance on only two feet without a tail or claws and-"

"FISHLEGS!"

"Oh, sorry, sir, I'm rambling again."

Stoick took a deep breath. "Tell the injured dragons they can camp out on this ship or anything here that floats. Organize with the riders to help them get onto the deck if they're too hurt to haul themselves up. Tell them I will get them safely to our harbor where they will have food, water, shelter, and any healing supplies or services we can render. It is the least I can do for what they did for us and I hope I can do more."

That was a lot for Throst to take in. Vikings treating dragons as equals, not pets. Riders who claimed they could communicate with dragons. Claims that dragons could _talk_ in the first place.

 _What's next? Dragons at the next Viking Thing? "And now, to speak on behalf of the dragon nation, Sir Toothless, Duke of the Scaly clan."_

A loud squawk heralded the arrival of that blond female on the Nadder. "Chief!" She greeted as she jumped down to the deck. A Monstrous Nightmare settled down nearby, bearing another young rider. He must be this Snotlout figure Fishlegs had mentioned, judging by the hastily wrapped bandage on his arm.

Stoick turned to the female rider and said, "Astrid, report."

"Most of the seaworthy enemy ships fled home, but ten from the Murderous, Berserker, and Mystic tribes tried to assault Berk, sir. A few longboats and the rest were cogs. The cogs had ballistae and catapults and we traded fire. The ones we didn't sink with our catapults docked in our harbor like idiots and the falling logs took out half of them and-"

She stopped, casting a look at Throst with a sneer. "One casualty and some minor injuries on our side. A couple houses need repairs from their catapults. Aside from that, we took no prisoners and left no survivors. Tofa is coordinating with her Terrors to keep an eye on the coastline and scan the island just to be sure, but that's all the hostiles who dared approach us.

Stoick kept his namesake as he said, "Well done, Astrid. Thank you."

The shieldmaiden beamed at him before turning a more solemn face towards Hiccup.

The chief shouted to nobody in particular, "I need to get Hiccup to Berk. Does anyone have a dragon that can carry the extra weight and isn't worn out from the fight?"

Before anybody could respond, a Rumblehorn walked up and gently nosed at the chief's shoulder.

Stoick looked over at the dragon's eyes and said, "Skullcrusher, are you sure you can carry Hiccup and me? We'll weigh you down quite a bit and... well, you've been through a lot, already. I couldn't ask you for anything more."

The dragon huffed and lowered its belly to the decking. Stoick rubbed the dragon's snout affectionately.

"Thanks, big fella."

Stoick vaulted onto Skullcrusher's back. Ruff mounted her Zippleback to hold Hiccup and raise him up to Stoick.

From his perch, Stoick said, "Ruff, Tuff, prepare a dinghy for Throst. Give him some food and water from storage below. I promised him release and I'm good for my word."

Then, looking down at Throst, he continued, I vowed that if I got Hiccup out alive, I would let your invasion fleet go without giving chase. I'd offer to have a dragon take you to one of your boats, but I fear for the safety of my people and will not put them at risk for you. We have a dinghy ready for you, though. Your ships have quite a head start, but oh well. Safe travels."

Throst wasn't concerned about that. He was in good standing with his tribe and their allies. The Meatheads were nearby and chief Mogadon would gladly get him back home. His only difficulty was in coming to terms with Stoick's almost nonchalant response to this attack on his island.

"That's _it_?" Throst spat. "Just like _that_ , you're going to pretend all this never happened?"

Tuffnut muttered, "Dude, what kinda fool inspects a gift yak's teeth?"

Stoick glowered. "Yes, for now, I will do you the favor of _pretending_ this never happened. I will _pretend_ that there are some among you who actually have a working brain. I will _pretend_ that some people from your tribe would be willing to open a dialog before trying to dominate us by force. I will call for a Thing, soon. Go lick your wounds and we'll talk later."

Throst started to stumble away without a word, but there were a thousand things he wanted to say. Berk still had command over hundreds of dragons. Stoick should be furious. He should be sending them all to burn Berserker Island to the ground. Such was the consequence Throst had warned Dagur about if the deranged chief was too hasty and his attack failed.

However, the Hooligan chief just casually flaunted his power over the dragons and, by extension, any other tribe, then claimed he will let everyone off the hook. There must be something more to this situation than meets the eyes.

"Oh, and by the way," Stoick said as Throst turned a tired face back towards him. "If you _ever_ touch my son again..."

He gestured to the unrecognizable, tattered corpse of a Berserker warrior. His identity was unrecognizable with how torn-up the body was. The bloody streak told the tale of how his killer dragged him across half the ship while tearing him apart. Stoick needed to say no more. A corpse is worth a thousand words.

Leaning down to the dragon again, he said, "Alright, Skullcrusher. Take us to Berk."

As the dragon started to coil up to launch off the edge of the ship, loud roars sounded out overhead. Throst looked up to see a Zippleback, a Nadder, a Terrible Terror, and a Monstrous Nightmares circle over the boat. The Monstrous Nightmare peeled off and swept down alongside the ship, turning as it passed Stoick to settle itself on top of the gunwale.

"Ah! First Contact, good to see you again." Gesturing to the three other dragons above, he said, "I'm guessing they must be the other alphas from the surrounding islands? I appreciate the consideration, but if they'd like to land, I promise I won't freak out."

The other three dragons landed around Stoick, all fixing their eyes on the boy in his lap.

"Hiccup will be fine, I think," the chief said. "Oh, I think his dragon name is Fire Light... Fire Bug? But I really need to get him back to Berk so the healers can help him. If you and a few others want to come with me, you're more than welcome. Just don't bring the whole damn nest!"

He paused in thought. "You have the deepest gratitude of a weary but thankful father. I know so little about your kind and I have no clue how to express my thanks. I owe a debt to you... to all the dragons that helped us today. This little scuffle today will lead to a very big mess in the future, but it's _my_ mess to deal with, not yours. You can be sure I won't ever let Hiccup get caught out in the middle of this again. And... well, I also vow that I will act in your best interests in keeping them off your doorstep."

Throst thought he'd seen enough crazy nonsense for one day, but this took the cake. The Hooligan chief was actually talking to dragons as if they were fellow warriors returning from a victorious fight.

Looking back towards Throst, Stoick said, "What are you still doing here? Your chariot awaits. Starboard side towards the bow. If you're not rowing by the count of ten…"

He let the threat hang. Throst scrambled to the dinghy, attempting to give all the dragons surrounding him a wide berth. They all snapped and snarled at him, but didn't attack. Still, he didn't take any chances and ignored all the aches and pains in his battered body as he slid down a rope into the dinghy and cast off.

THUMP!

Something impacted the small boat. Throst whirled around to see the Night Fury crouched there. The tattered body Stoick had pointed to earlier was clutched in the dragon' claws. It just glared at Throst as he scrambled as far away from the dragon as he could. He was tempted to jump into the water, but that would only seal his death with how chilly the breeze was.

The dragon wrapped its teeth around the head of the corpse, all while maintaining eye contact with that deathly glare. Snapping and rending could be heard as it reared its head back to slowly behead what was a Berserker warrior.

"Toothless!" Astrid shouted down from the ship. "We don't do that. Get over here now or I'll tell Hiccup what you're doing."

The dragon snorted, spun around, slapped Throst with its tail, and shot up into the sky. The dinghy rocked and took on seawater, but at least there was a bucket. As he bailed the water out, Throst thought about what just happened. What he had seen today demonstrated a certain intelligence in dragons. For the black one in particular, a certain malevolent intelligence. What it just did could have been nothing other than a threat.

 _Touch my rider again and your death will be grand!_

* * *

 **A/N:**  
Thanks for reading! Also, thank you 10Blue10 for all the love! DragonFANFICTION, no, the story ain't over, yet. With or without Skuf, Berk is still in hot water and I can't just leave them hanging like that. Or _could_ I? Maaaybe I will, just because I can. Ha. Ha ha! Muahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa!


	22. Coming to Terms

**22 - Wake-Up Call**

Wind whipped through Hiccup's hair as he whistled through the air. The powerful body beneath him thrummed as the wind thrashed around the rapid beats of its wings. Icy gusts stung the rider's eyes, but he didn't care. The exhilaration of flying at such high speeds was topped only by the thrill of fighting for his own life.

His wide grin was mimicked by his dragon, who puffed out his cheeks to gather up a fireball. The Night Fury's wings locked for a moment as he took aim. Time seemed to hang still, as did the breath caught in the rider's throat. An indigo bolt streaked through the air, striking a Zippleback at the base of its two necks, exploding in a violent blast that tore through flesh and shattered bones.

Roaring and whooping, dragon and rider sailed above the enemy, now choking on its own blood, as the force of the blast pushed them even higher. Unhooking his flight harness from the saddle, Hiccup pulled a dagger out of its sheath at his hip and slid off the side of Toothless.

Plummeting down a short distance, he landed with a distinctly visible lack of grace on the back of a male emerald Deadly Nadder, directly over his rear haunches. Hiccup started to slide off to the right, but lunged forward, digging his blade into the back of the rider who was sitting at the base of the Nadder's neck, drawing out a pained gasp from his victim. The dagger's handle proved to be a very useful handhold for Hiccup to haul himself back up and onto the dragon, causing the other rider to lose balance and fall off.

The Nadder, noticing the brief mutiny on his back, squawked in fear and started to flutter his wings in panic. Hiccup rubbed the dragon's neck, humming soothing nothings to calm him down.

Over to his right, Toothless was perched on the back of a Monstrous Nightmare, claws dug in deep and teeth wrapped around the base of its left wing. As the large dragon shrieked and fell with a limp wing that could no longer sustain flight, the Night Fury jumped off, spreading his wings to fly alongside Hiccup and his newly acquired mount.

The fading, screeching wail marked the Nightmare's descent. The bone-crunching thud far below marked its death.

"You know you can't keep him," Toothless said, dryly.

For some reason, the fact that the Night Fury was speaking in a low, guttural, rumbling voice didn't bother Hiccup at all, even though he recognized such a thing was impossible.

He looked over at Toothless with a big smirk on his face as he grabbed the Nadder's spikes that crowned his head, guiding him to the left. The Night Fury adjusted his course to stay in formation just off to the side.

"You're just jealous, Toothless. You want me _all_ to yourself. You can't share your most _precious_ rider." Said rider stuck out his tongue.

Toothless rolled his eyes and said, "It's too late for that Nadder and you know it. There is no fixing him."

"Admit it," Hiccup taunted. "You just want me to exercise control over you. You feel lost without _my_ direction. You feel a Hiccup-sized void in your life if I'm not there on your back, commanding you. Fly there. Fetch this. Kill that. Come here. Do a barrel roll!"

The Night Fury huffed his annoyance. "Just get on my back _now_ or I'll grab your flight harness with my teeth and... and... let you dangle for a while." Hiccup gasped in mock horror. "Before you ask, yes, I _would_ put up with some more flight with this fixed tailfin if it means getting you off that _thing_."

"Not a _thing_. He's a male. You can tell by the shorter spikes on his head and the set of his hips."

The Night Fury swept over and took a swipe to snatch Hiccup, who ducked and shoved the Nadder's head forward to descend."

"Alright, alright," Hiccup chuckled. "I'm coming. Just don't forget to catch me."

He grabbed a knife out of a sheath on the Nadder's saddle and said, "Sorry, boy. There's no other way."

With a well-practiced thrust, the blade was inserted into the back of the dragon's neck, between the spinal discs, ending his life instantly. The poor thing didn't even feel any pain.

Hiccup froze as he watched the Nadder's lifeless head loll around in the wind.

 _I did this!_

There it was again. That instinct, that voice, that damn stupid conscience rearing its head at the most inconvenient moment, reminding him about the moral integrity he abandoned that had landed him on the back of a Night Fury in the first place.

A bark from the side snapped Hiccup's attention to Toothless. The Nadder on which he sat was falling, tumbling listlessly on the winds. No surprise there; dragons have a tendency to do that when murdered in flight. Hiccup shoved his annoying conscience aside, released his death grip from the bloodied neck, and spread his arms and legs to fall onto the back of Toothless.

After strapping himself in, he leaned far forward and closed his eyes, draping his arms around Toothless' head and mumbled, "It never gets easier, Bud. It's so fun to watch _you_ do it. You make it look like it's just a game. But when it's by my own hands, I… It hurts every time."

With his ear pressed against the top of the Night Fury's head, Hiccup could hear a rumbling sound resonating inside the dragon as he built up another ball of fire.

pop

Whoosh!

BOOM!

Another fireball. Another solid hit. Hiccup didn't even look. The twin screams of a Zippleback left little room for the imagination. He could feel the rumble of Toothless crooning in satisfaction.

"You did the right thing," the black dragon said. "I don't know why killing is so hard for your mind to accept, but I hope you become more comfortable with it, soon. You'll be doing it a lot more in the coming days."

"No!" Hiccup sat up straight. His knuckles whitened around the saddle grips. "If killing feels so wrong, then there _must_ be another way. Toothless, why can't we just _reason_ with them? They close their ears and draw their weapons so easily. They think that they can just bludgeon their problems over the head and make life better. They wield dragons like they're just... spears to fling at us. It's… It's… Unnatural!"

"It is better this way, Hiccup. Death is clean. A corpse cannot betray you. You will lose your life if you do not guard it. If they cannot leave us alone, then they must-"

The dragon never finished his sentence. A large, blood red Monstrous Nightmare smashed into them from the side.

Shrieks filled the air.

Hiccup was thrown about violently. One of the straps securing him to the saddle snapped from the force. A large talon sliced through the air, trying to end his life, but severed the other strap instead. Hiccup screamed as he flailed around in free-fall. Already, the Nightmare was dead, bloodied neck bent at an unnatural angle. Toothless was not unscathed, though. A large gash on his left side spanned from the top of his neck to the side of his belly. Blood sprayed out in a spiraling crimson disk as the dragon spun violently in the air.

"Hiccup! Come to me! HICCUP!"

"TOOTHLESS!"

Hiccup's eyes widened in terror as he noticed a dark-blue Nadder diving at them, wings folded, tail straight as an arrow, talons extended out. The rider on the dragon's back held a spear in his hand, ready to throw. The talons and spearhead glinted with malice and the promise of pain and regret.

Toothless made one last, frantic lunge and craned his neck around to grab his rider's left forearm in his jaw. Sharp teeth sunk deep into flesh. Blood poured out, adding red marks to the dragon's already stained maw. Hiccup screamed in pain as he was pulled in and black wings enfolded him to block out all light.

Over the whistling of air rushing past, Hiccup could hear his dragon whine. No, not a whine, but that signature shriek of a Night Fury on a fire run, quiet at first, but rising in volume. It only got louder and louder, driving into his skull, deafening him with its intensity.

Something cold and wet slapped against Hiccup's forehead and his body convulsed.

"WH- What the- TOOTH-" Hiccup gagged and coughed. "TOO-" He gagged again.

The whining exploded into a loud, pained yowl.

Hiccup tried to bolt upright, but a fire seared his abdomen and made him go slack again. His heart throbbed painfully in his temples. He blinked his eyes, willing the world around him to come into focus.

 _I knew it, I'm dead._

He realized that could not be, though. The dead don't gasp for air. The dead don't squint at the light assaulting their eyes. The dead don't feel pain. Such things are reserved for the living. That is, until their lives are ended by some painful and pointless display of pride.

Blinking his way into whatever world decided to appear before him, a wall of plain wooden slabs came into focus. No, wait, if people sleep on the floor or a bed - except the Thorston twins, of course - that must be a ceiling. And where there is a ceiling...

Hiccup jerked his head to look right. All around, the walls were littered with assorted herbs, hanging by twine and tacks. Their smells, mixed with various oils, were overpowering if not pleasant. Since the floor didn't rise up to greet the edge of his vision, he realized he must have been on a bed. It was actually quite comfortable.

 _So, why did I wake up in the first place, then? Oh, right, dying in a dream sorta does that._

Turning his head to the other side, Hiccup could see his cherished dragon standing next to his bed, nibbling on his left arm with toothless gums, whining and trilling nervously. The dragon seemed to be in mental anguish.

Hiccup squinted at Toothless in thought. Wasn't there blood covering that maw and splattered along his underside? He was so certain of it.

Toothless projections were full of guilt and worry, but took on a tinge of confusion at his rider's staring. _{I cleaned it off as soon as I could. You know how practical my scaly hide is. I drag myself through silt and sand, roll around in the water, and I'm good as new._

"Take it easy, son," Stoick said from where he stood at the head of the bed, patting a cool, wet cloth on his son's head.

"Wha-" Hiccup gasped and swallowed. "Ha... Where... How did I... Toothless, stop!"

The Night Fury suddenly froze for a moment before lowering the arm that was clenched in his mouth down to the bed to release it. Hiccup winced at the sight of the gashes Dagur sliced into his arm because the madman thought it was funny. Pain flared up in the cool air when the dragon spat the limb out.

"Nevermind. Don't stop."

The dragon grumbled and wrapped his gummy maw around the arm again. He shifted around to lightly rest his head atop his rider's bare chest. Hiccup let out a contented hum that slid into a sigh. The soft purring, felt through the bottom of the dragon's head and neck, caused the rider's tense body to relax and sink into the bed beneath him.

Hiccup felt something against his side and lifted his head a little bit to take a look. Below his arm, leaning against his torso - on the side without any broken rib, thankfully - was a sky blue Terrible Terror. Slender steel rods acted as splints for his broken leg and wings. The poor thing was trembling and whining.

"Hi there-" Hiccup choked. His mouth felt like cotton. His throat was a desert. Instead, he focused on silently projecting his thoughts. _{Hello, there, little mink dragon. I'm glad to see you made it. I was worried about you.}_

As he gently stroked the dragon's head, he could feel concern and gratitude through the contact. The Terror's trembling and whining shifted into purring that melded with Toothless'. Hiccup just melted into the soothing ministrations that only these two species of dragons could provide.

A small water skin appeared next to his head, which Stoick uncapped and tilted so a little bit sloshed into Hiccup's mouth. He swallowed after his head was lowered down to open his throat and they repeated this process a few more times. He had felt like his voice was about to choke off before, but the water helped a lot.

"Thanks." Hiccup said. "I really need a reality check. Toothless, can you talk? With words?"

 _{Of course not, Firefly! Why did you dream of such things? You know I would never push you to go against your own instincts! It was your instincts that told you to spare my life and help me fly when you had every reason to kill me. It was your instincts that helped us destroy the demonic queen. I may be more inclined to physical violence than you, but please don't hate me for that. You repress my rage and prideful retaliations and I allow it because I trust you. I need you! I trust your instincts, even though it can be infuriating at times.}_

It was as if the black dragon was trying to reconcile everything all at once. The projected thoughts all came out in a flash flood that made Hiccup's head spin. Toothless noticed this and suddenly halted with a whine.

Stoick walked over to the other side of the room and said, "You should know they can talk, son. By the way, I recently learned Fishlegs has started to hear dragons - or, at least, his Gronckle."

"Oh, gods!" Hiccup groaned in embarrassment as realization dawned on him. "That dream. I really projected that?"

That would also explain why the Terror was so shocked. Though dragons had an amazing memory, dreaming or any other form of imagination was foreign to them. Such an invasion of their senses meant they had a harder time accepting that dreams weren't real after waking up. Lately, as Hiccup's abilities with telepathic communication grew, he has been inadvertently projecting his dreams. Fortunately, his range of projection was very small and only Toothless would be affected. The dragon was starting to get used to it.

"I'm so sorry Bud! That was just messed up on _so_ many different levels. Oh, gods! Toothless, your side! Let me see!"

The dragon complied, lifting his head and shifting over so Hiccup could see. The last time he saw his dragon's side, it had a nasty gash from a Monstrous Nightmare. Hiccup knew it was a dream, but he had to see for himself. His hand traced along the neck and shoulder. The scales were smooth and cool to the touch. He sunk back into the bed with a sigh of relief.

 _It was all a dream._

 _Just a stupid dream._

"Anything interesting about the dream?" Stoick asked.

 _{Absolutely not! You have my permission to never dream again.}_

"Oh, ya know, boring images to fill the time while I sleep," Hiccup said in a dry tone. "Just something about an enemy tribe that had warriors on dragons, trying to burn our existence to ashes. Toothless could talk like us and he was trying to console me when I had a nervous breakdown after killing a rider and his dragon. Oh, and then we died. I just _love_ dreams like that. Don't you, Dad?"

Stoick waved a hand dismissively. "I've had dreams of the dragon that took Val. It came back to taunt me and told me-" He grunted as he grabbed the rag from Hiccup's forehead to dip into a bucket. "Must run in the family. You've a strange imagination, son. Could be nothing at all. Could be a sign from the Gods of what will be. Could be a sign of what _could_ be. Let's hope it's not option number two."

Hiccup took a deep breath to steady himself and prepare mentally for something he needed to address. "Skuf..."

"I'm sorry, son. He died in battle, fighting bravely and selflessly. We owe him a lot in organizing that dragon army."

"Dragon... army..."

"Yes. About three hundred, including Terrible Terrors. They made it clear they didn't want to fight our war, but they wanted to save you. You'll be happy to know that none of them died, though there were some injuries. They should-"

The chief was cut off by a loud, sharp whine. Hiccup suddenly realized that his fingers, which had been idly scratching the base of one of his dragon's sensor fins, were digging into the scales with whitened knuckles. He instantly jerked his hand away, gasping as pain shot through his torso.

"Sorry, Bud. Really, I'm so sorry you had to be a part of... this."

Toothless pressed his nose into his rider's hand and fixed him with a hard stare. _{I did what was necessary to save you and I have no regrets. You have nothing to regret except your own frailty and the fact that you have to deal with my anger management issues. Don't ever make me leave you alone like that ever again. I would sooner die!}_

Hiccup groaned. "It's all my fault, Bud. I shouldn't have pressed the issue about your family. It was rude and disrespectful of me. I'm-"

Toothless cut him off with a grunt. _{You can be aggravating, sometimes, but don't even dare try to blame yourself.}_

"Hiccup," Stoick said. "Things could have been so much worse without the help of those dragons. They came to save _you_ , but ended up saving all of Berk as a collateral blessing. Well, for now, at least. With their help, we-"

"Dad! Toothless!" Hiccup snapped. His head throbbed. Stoick and Toothless both snapped their jaws shut with an audible click. "Both of you. Can we drop that for now?" His tone softened. "Please?"

Stoick waved a hand dismissively. "That would actually be a good call. You're still recovering, so best not to stress about anything if it can be avoided. Gothi says pretty much all of whatever they put in you should be worked out of your body by now. You should be fine, minus the bruising and broken rib. You look and sound a lot better.

Toothless trilled briefly and rested his head on his rider's chest again, purring. The Terror licked at Hiccup's exposed torso.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup saw Gothi enter the room, leaning on her staff. She batted Toothless' head away to wrap the arm in some fresh bandages. Hiccup dropped his head down into the pillow and closed his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath. At least, he tried, but a sharp pain shot through his chest after his lungs filled halfway, drawing out a pained groan.

"How long have I been out?"

"Only a few days," he heard Astrid say as she strode into the room. "Much better for Toothless' peace of mind compared to your usual half-year recovery from some apocalyptic injury following some crazy stunt. Which reminds me..."

Something impacted Hiccup's left shoulder hard enough to tell he just got punched, but light enough that it didn't really hurt.

" _That's_ for almost dying!" the shieldmaiden said. Then, leaning forward, she pecked a quick kiss on his forehead. Hiccup felts sparks of heat and energy zap his nerves all throughout his body. "And _that's_ for pulling through."

Hiccup grinned widely at her and took another deep breath. This time, he looked straight ahead, towards the ceiling, and tried to inhale very slowly to fill his lungs completely with only a dull pain to protest.

"Firefly!"

He recognized Tofa's excited squeal and flicked his eyes to see her run into the room, followed by her usual gaggle of Terrible Terrors, but she skidded to a stop just after clearing the doorway. A few Terrors flocked around the injured one to croon and lick him. Toothless nipped at any who would dare jostle his rider's broken rib.

"Hoowee! You stink Mr. Firefly sir!" Tofa said, pinching her nose.

Hiccup blushed.

Astrid chuckled and said, "He has been in that bed for a few days. We can feed him broth and water while he sleeps, but, well, ya know, he couldn't get up, so..."

Tofa's eyes widened. "Ohhhhhh..."

"Hiccup," Stoick said, returning to his son's side. "Gothi says you should be able to get up and move around a bit. Let's get some food in ya and we have a bath set up for ya, then take a walk. Not too far, but it will help to get the blood flowing a bit to work out anything still lingering in your body. She kept you sleeping to allow your body to recover from the shock and spare you from the pain, but moving around will help your recovery.

Hiccup turned his head to look at his father. "Dad, did we already send him off?" He remembered something happened to Skuf, but everything was so blurry.

"Skuf? Aye," Stoick said. "Sorry we couldn't wait for ya. Couldn't afford to with all the cleanup we had to do."

Hiccup never enjoyed taking part in a Viking warrior funeral. Watching the funeral pyre engulfed in flames only served as a reminder of how unnecessarily violent and cruel wars could be. Whether the Gods accept their souls - or even if they exist for that matter - was something he was always skeptical about. If the gods exist, they're all just a bunch of immature beings, anyway, toying with people because they're cursed with immortality and all the boredom and insanity that must go along with it.

He let out a puff of air. "Good."

Stoick's face suddenly switched back to its usual impassive facade behind the braids of his red beard. He put a large hand under Hiccup's back.

"Try, slowly, to get up."

Hiccup gradually raised himself up. There was a dull pain and he winced at one moment, but he got up without any issues. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he tried to grab his prosthetic foot from Astrid, but she slapped his hand away and managed to get it strapped on by herself. A binding wrapped around his ribcage supported the broken rib and, as he stood up - a feat in itself for how weak and hollow he felt - the pain started to lessen.

Hiccup stumbled and ended up draping himself over his dragon's snout. He took that moment to just close his eyes and give a big hug. "Toothless, I-"

 _{Don't say it.}_

Hiccup sighed. "Thanks. For everything, Bud."

 _{_ Anything _for my Firefly!}_

"That dream-"

 _{What did I_ just _tell you?}_

"I'm afraid of what I could become. I'm afraid I'll forget that brave-but-scared boy who freed the Vikings' most hated enemy just because it _felt_ right. I'm worried I'll betray your trust you put in me."

 _{Firefly, you will never be without my wings no matter where you go or what you do. That is my desire. If you deny it then you call me a liar. You are the most amazing creature in this world no matter what you say and I'll sit on anyone who denies it until he turns blue.}_

Hiccup smiled. "Including me?"

Toothless nudged his rider into a standing position. _{_ Especially _you! To insult you is to insult me and I will not tolerate that.}_

The rider idly stroked his dragon's snout. "Promise me one thing, Bud? Don't ever change."

 _{You first.}_

Stoick clasped his hands together. "Well, that one-sided conversation was not awkward, no, not one little bit. Now, get cleaned up, get some food and water, and then go for a walk. Take it slow and easy and do _not_ ride Toothless. No flying. Don't even ride him on the ground. You could hurt your healing rib by bouncing on his back in a sitting position or tumbling off."

Hiccup looked at Stoick with wide eyes. "Could you say that again, Dad? Don't ride... _who_?"

Stoick gave his son a confused look. "Don't ride Toothless... or _any_ dragon for that matter..."

The chief noticed the look in his son's eyes and a grin broke out behind his beard. He laughed and clapped Toothless on the shoulder. The dragon yelped and nipped at him.

"Oh, right," he said. "These past few days forced me to take a step forward in my relationship with dragons. Well, many steps in rapid succession. By some stroke of luck, I haven't tripped, yet. Can you believe it? I _rode_ a dragon."

The distinctively low, rumbling roar of Skullcrusher could be heard from somewhere nearby, outside the building.

"Ya," Stoick said with a grin. " _That_ one. I think I must be going insane!"

Hiccup grinned from ear to ear. "What is the world coming to, eh?"

 _{Not only that, but the dragon practically demanded that your sire be his rider. He would not take no for an answer. For a moment, I was concerned they would come to blows.}_

Hiccup saw an interesting scene unfold from Toothless' eyes as he recalled what happened for his rider just this morning. Stoick was walking the streets, doing his duties, when Skullcrusher jumped in front of him and lowered his chin to the ground. The dragon had developed a great respect for the man and, in his desire to find some direction in life, something to fight for, decided that his answer was to be Stoick's dragon and spend time with him. Stoick always seemed to have enemies to fight and Skullcrusher wanted to be a part of that.

At first, Stoick was startled and reached for his weapon. He relaxed, though, when he realized the dragon wasn't attacking him. Suffice to say, the old man got the message and accepted, though he was quite unsure of how to be a rider or even how that could possibly fit into his duties as chief. Still, he felt he owed it to the dragon if he really wanted it so badly.

"Yeah, what Toothless said, but it was amazing!" Tofa threw in with giddy excitement. "Skullcrusher was like 'Be my rider!' and Mr. Stalwart was like 'I dunno...' And then Skullcrusher was like 'Pleeeease!' and then Stalwart was like 'Oh, alright, I guess.' And then Skullcrusher was like 'Yes!' and licked him and was like 'Eeeew! Your beard is gross!' and then he gagged and licked trees and rocks to get the hairs out of his mouth. Oh, by the way, Beast is now called Stalwart. Skullcrusher named him."

Hiccup just looked at his father with a slack jaw.

Stoick winked and put on his usual face as he donned his coat and straightened his posture. "Anyway, Astrid, I still have a lot of cleanup to do. Can you take care of Hiccup for me? Tofa, give Hiccup some privacy. And stop making faces at Toothless or you'll get stuck like that for the rest of your life. Toothless, don't encourage her. C'mon, Tofa, you can help me tell Skullcrusher that I don't need a ride on his back when I'm just going down the street. Astrid, help Hiccup get cleaned up, please. But try not to look. He's _really_ squeamish."

Hiccup protested, face turning red. "Dad, I don't need-"

"And Toothless," Stoick interrupted, "Don't _let_ Hiccup ride you. We both know how stubborn the boy is and he needs _someone_ to do what's right. _Sit_ on him if you need to. If I see him on your back, I'll chop off your tail and beat you senseless with it."

The Night Fury gave the chief a gummy smile, drawing a scowl from Hiccup. "Dad, it's great to see you getting a little less formal with Toothless, but do you _really_ need to talk to him like that?"

Stoick laughed. "Dragons are tough critters, son. They love tough love."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and dryly toned, "Thanks, Dad, for this training on dragons."

Stoick winked. "Anything for you, son."

With that, he spun around and headed out.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Two chapters to go to wade through this political mess (or, at least, get a hopefully satisfying start on it).

10Blue10: Ya, Toothless is the best at negotiating. Toothless for president 2020 let's go!

So, I like to include some, hmmm, Easter egg themes in my stories. Ya know, little running gags in the background that I don't explicitly call out, but hope you catch onto (like Ruff-n-Tuff's accomplice/rivalry duality that many viewers didn't notice in HTTYD1, but took center stage in some of the TV series). For example, you've noticed for almost this entire story, each section is from a single person's POV. I'm curious if you've noticed the transition in how Stoick sees dragons. His development in this way was a sorta side-quest in my story where he always referred to dragons as "it" and his mind railed against Hiccup's new-age "dragons are people" thinking. Sure, he made allowances in his tribe and home, he outwardly declared this or that, but was never comfy with dragons. Then, I used Hiccup's capture as the carrot on a stick to force Stoick to work with dragons and he started seeing them as not just a smart beast, but "him" or "her" or using their name as if they're equals, worthy of the respect of a fellow Viking. I'm curious how much of that you picked up from reading (before this A/N). I like trying to include little subtle bits, but being too subtle is just bad writing that wastes your time on unnecessary words. If I could ask a favor, I'm wondering how clear this Easter egg was. If you have any critiques (positive or negative), I'd appreciate any PMs or comments. Thanks!


	23. Damage Control

**23 - Damage Control**

Throst paced in front of the council in the Great Hall on Berserker Island. The councilmen were quickly transitioning from rude to just plain insulting so quickly it was tempting to take one of the many weapons mounted on the walls and throw it at these fools. Ever since he clambered onto the shore, everybody has been questioning him unceasingly. At the news of Dagur's death, the council quickly assembled to do some damage control to keep the tribe in order.

Apparently, "damage control" consisted of asking the same questions over and over again when the answer didn't sufficiently stroke their ego.

"This is the fifth time you've asked me this question," Throst snapped in annoyance. "The only ships that were attacked by dragons were the ones surrounding the flagship. It's as if their attack was some sort of coordinated extraction effort solely for Berk's heir."

One of the councilmen, somewhere in his forties, shifted anxiously in his seat. Throst never bothered to learn their names. They never did anything but talk anyway, sending younger men to die meaningless deaths. These brainless fools have never considered that there was more to expansion and conquest than simply throwing warriors at an enemy.

"But they're dragons."

Throst sighed. "An astute observation. You impress me with your vast intellect."

The old man scowled. "And they worked together as a unit?"

"My answer to that question _still_ has not changed. Perhaps, if you ask five _more_ times, I'll have a more satisfying-"

"And they just secured the boy and left?"

Throst stopped his pacing and walked up to stand in front of the councilman, scowling at him. "I get the feeling you're calling me a liar. Don't mire your message in excessive words. Say it plainly."

The young commander grabbed a tankard full of water that was sitting on the table in front of the councilman. His throat was starting to feel dry from all the talking and he took pleasure in the brief scowl in the councilman's face as he drank it down.

"It's just a lot of strange things to take in all at once," the older man said. "Dragons don't do that."

Another council member spoke up. He was the youngest of them, being in his mid-thirties, not much older than Throst. "Perhaps we should call for a Thing. With the Hooligans and all the other tribes in the area gathered together-"

He was cut off, though, by angry glares and grumblings of the other six on the council.

"We are not so _weak_ that we need to wait in hopes for _handouts_!" shouted an older member of the council, encroaching on his sixties. "As Throst mentioned, the chief of Berk said it himself. If they had not captured the heir, then the invading fleet would have encountered seven dragons instead of hundreds. We can gather the forces again and get some of our allies to join. Swing wide of the island and approach from upwind so they have less time to react by the time we're spotted."

Throst was reminded, once again, of how glad he was that he did _not_ mention his involvement in securing the Hooligan heir. Anyone who knew of his involvement was killed in the dragon raid. The council would gladly pin everything on him if they could, leaving a horrible lineup of candidates for chiefdom.

"You're missing the point, old man!" Throst snapped in irritation. "If the dragons have developed some sort of messiah complex around Berk's heir, then it doesn't matter if he's on a ship or the mainland. The dragons will defend him _wherever_ he is."

One of the councilmen seemed to be chomping at the bit to retort, but the door to the great hall slammed open and a warrior came running in. He stopped in front of Throst, breathing hard, and snapped a salute.

"Sir! Messenger hawk. Addressed to you."

Throst took the offered vellum. He recognized this man to be one of the warriors in the invading fleet, but his normal duties were to patrol around the island.

"Did you see where the hawk returned, Sod?"

Sod flushed at being addressed by name in front of so many higher-ups and quickly said, "Y-Yessir. It flew back to the top of the sea stack, off the docks, to the North. There was a dragon, i-it was black. When the hawk was taken by whoever must have been up there, the dragon... fanned its wings and gave a roar, but that's it. Maybe they're waiting for a response?"

"Did you see the rider?" Throst knew the answer before he even asked the question.

"No, sorry, sir. I think I may have seen a head poke out from beside the dragon, but it was too far away to tell."

"Thank you, Sod. You may return to your duties."

Sod snapped a salute and briskly walked out. Throst unrolled the vellum, taking his time, enjoying the baited silence and suspense that fell over the council. As he scanned the document, his lips curled up into a smile.

Finally, a councilman snapped, "So, what's it say?"

Throst handed the vellum to the nearest councilman, the grumpy old one who practically called him a liar, earlier. "A Thing. Berk has called for a Thing in a week. They're asking all the tribes in the Archipelago to attend to discuss dragon training for everyone. On an island they named... Toothless Tackle."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that as the councilmen crowded around the vellum. "They named an island after one of their tamed dragons. Message says it's five leagues South of Berk and three East of the Meatheads."

Throst sensed a storm brewing and held his peace as the councilmen spoke their mind.

"Not exactly in the neighborhood..."

"Ass-end of nowhere!"

"Says Bogs, Hysterics, and Meatheads have already agreed to join the Thing."

"If I see Mogadon or Bertha on a dragon, I will shoot them down myself!"

"Think Big Bertha would just _break_ the dragon's back with her... girth."

"Ha!"

"No more than _five_ members per tribe on the island?! Who do they think they are?!"

"They _really_ think that we will agree to such-"

"But they will train us to ride dragons!"

"They _say_ they will..."

"And what image will we give ourselves, begging for such handouts?"

"Bet it's just a ruse and they'll have a dragon army waiting to roast us."

"Foolish!"

"A longboat and a few men is a small risk for such gain."

"And whose life will we just throw away like that? And don't say _you're_ going, young rascal."

"I'm not young. I'm thirty-seven!"

"I was, too, once. If you die on such a fool's errand, it'd be all for the better, but you will _not_ be riding a dragon before me."

"Then go yourself, old man. Sometimes, you have to take a risk."

"Kids these days."

"Like the risk we took in that failed invasion a couple weeks ago?"

"Dagur said he was sure their dragon count was small."

"Dagur is dead!"

"And good riddance!"

"Draw your sword and say that to my face! I _dare_ you!"

"Gentlemen!"

Throst diverted his attention away from the councilmen to conceal his amused smile. Watching these pretentious fools bicker back and forth could sometimes be entertaining, but it was starting to get boring, anyway. Eventually, as they started to settle down, the oldest one - and grumpiest - spoke up.

"Berk will, no doubt, send their heir to this Thing. The dragons all raided to protect him. We still have most of our fleet and can surely get help from the Murderous and Outcast tribes in time. If an invading fleet just _happens_ to attack Berk while the heir is away..."

The other councilmen murmured their consent. Such plan would be destined to fail, though. Berk was not indomitable - even with dragons - but subtlety and tact would win the day, not haste.

Throst realized, though, that such failure would actually be good for him. The council was already cast in a bad light after the fallout with Dagur and their full support of the failed Berk invasion. If they send a fleet to invading attack Berk only to be repelled or destroyed again, he could paint himself in the people's eyes as the voice of reason they _should_ have listened to. _Again_.

Dagur was thorough in securing his chiefdom by eliminating all of his brothers and cousins, so there was no lineage for the new chief. Throst was already a candidate. If he made it clear to his peers that he would suggest diplomacy while the council pushes for another act of war, then another failed invasion would elevate him and destroy the council's credibility when they speak against him. Then, as chief, these ignorant fools could be eliminated and replaced with people who recognize the cost of blood and would pay for only that which would yield returns.

 _If I get the right message to the right person at the right time, I can even have the Hooligans and their dragons scare off the invading fleet and save some good warriors while earning favor with Berk, too._

Throst pretended to be distracted by other matters while the council wrote their response at the bottom of the vellum. They rolled it up, tied it, and gave it to him, telling him to make sure Berk gets their reply. With a salute of feigned respect, he turned and walked out of the Great Hall to the docks along the seaside. On the way, he stopped by the barracks and grabbed an empty coin purse, a small chunk of cured yak meat, and a short length of twine.

Stepping out onto the docks, he looked out at the sea stack off the coast. As he waited for whoever was there to spot him, he unrolled the vellum to read the response. As expected, the council had agreed that the Berserkers would attend the Thing. He grabbed a charcoal pencil, quickly wrote a note at the bottom, and signed it.

Rolling up the vellum again, he noticed a figure had come into view from the top of the sea stack, but it was too far away to see any detail. However, he knew it _must_ be the heir if the dragon with him was the black Night Fury. Throst waved the rolled up vellum in the air over his head and a hawk was shortly sent to him, swooping down to land on his outstretched arm.

The hawk immediately stuck its head into the cloth sack to retrieve the scrap of meat. With a couple well-practiced motions, Throst secured the cloth bag over the bird's head and perched it on the dock so he could tie the vellum to its leg. He had seen enough people lose little bits of flesh when handling hawks and didn't want to repeat their mistakes.

With the message secured, he faced the hawk out toward sea and removed the bag from its head. It stood there, uncertainly blinking in the light, until Throst tapped the back of its legs with the toe of his boot, setting the bird off to fly back to the top of the sea stack.

He would make sure he was at the Thing. After all, if the council was foolish enough to send a hastily arranged invading fleet, he would not want to be on any of those ships.

########

* * *

########

Hiccup was bored.

Very bored.

It was hardly any consolation to see that his dragon was bored, too. They had already gone through the normal activities to pass the idle time, such as wrestling together, counting the freckles on the rider's face, counting the scales on the dragon's face, lounging around, and watching the sky. Hiccup even grabbed some saddle soap and oil from the saddlebag and made sure the leather and iron were in as perfect condition as possible.

"This sucks." Hiccup idly grabbed a small stone and chucked it over the edge, watching it fall.

And fall.

And fall.

It dropped out of sight below the edge of the sea stack they were lounging on. He couldn't even see any splash to indicate it hit the water.

"I mean, we don't even know if they'll accept the idea in the _first_ place. They're probably just too prideful to accept training from me just because I don't bash my head on rocks every day. Why do Vikings have to be... Aghhhh, Vikings!"

Toothless pressed his snout into his rider's hand so his projected thoughts could be heard. _{Did you just insult yourself?}_

Hiccup stood up, suddenly, waving his arms in agitation. "I am _not_ a Viking!"

His mind flashed back to the day he shot down the Night Fury and loudly declared the exact opposite, way back when he was still trying to be more like his father, more like a Viking. A snort from Toothless told the rider his dragon made the same connection.

Hiccup dropped down to his dragon's side again. "No, I am not a Viking. I am a different type of person. I don't respect our traditions and I stopped caring about anyone who is offended by that."

The dragon voice his thoughts with a wet tongue on his rider's cheek

"Hel, why not even change what gods I'm supposed to believe in. How about, ummmm, what's-his-name who fasted for forty days and, uhhh, beat up Loki with a stone and bread? I think that's how it went. One of the traders wouldn't stop yammering about it. I think he just really wanted to sell me his books. I don't even want to think about how _I_ would fare if I fasted for so long."

Hiccup felt a scaly nose press into his hand and was presented with an image of himself, skin clinging to his bones, weakly trying to crawl forward. Imagination was a new talent Toothless was slowly learning from his rider.

"Ha!" Hiccup snorted. "Yeah, that's about right. I guess I'll stick with good ol' Zeus and company."

Walking to the edge of the sea stack, he looked over toward Toothless Tackle island, where the Thing was being held. Though uninhabited, it was a sizable chunk of land with a dense forest, marshy swamps, and some high, rocky basins that held water and fed streams and creeks that trickled through the island and into the sea. Ships were spread out off the shore, anchored down, and little dinghies were moored up on the sandy beach. The sun peaked through the clouds here and there and Hiccup enjoyed watching a patch of sunlight float across the sea, past his sea stack, and then scoot across the island as the clouds marched along.

Though it was difficult to see from this distance, he could tell there was a sizable campfire that the people were gathered around. Hiccup had been to intertribal Things before, although this was the first he's heard of that wasn't on a tribe's main island. Supposedly, many years ago, one Thing ended when a bunch of dragons attacked, burning down the hall in which they gathered. A lot of people died in the confines of the burning hall. So, given the dragon-centric nature of this discussion, they felt safer outside with a forest nearby to negate the flight of dragons and several ships just offshore.

As much as Hiccup wanted to join his father in the Thing, he had to obey the old man. The chief did raise a very good point in the past that just as Hiccup understood dragons better than anyone else, Stoick understood people. So, he told Hiccup to stay at the top of this sea stack with his dragon until he received word that it was safe to join the Thing. The Vikings arriving from the tribes in the area would be anxious to shout their demands and, being Vikings, prone to start hitting each other. Once Stoick was satisfied they were calm enough, he would send for his son.

With everyone agreeing to have only five members per tribe on the island, Stoick was joined by Spitelout, Gobber, Snotlout, and Hookfang. Stoick already had plans for when everyone would immediately object to having a dragon on the island. If they didn't allow it, then Berk would withdraw and bye-bye dragon training. Forcing the other tribes to accept a dragon as a tribe member would help hammer home the point that dragons were more than dumb beasts. Hiccup had objected to including the hot-headed rider and his dragon and recommended Astrid and Stormfly or Fishlegs and Meatlug instead, but Stoick insisted. Hookfang was actually a pretty calm dragon - as long as Snotlout could be managed - and, if they had to beat a hasty retreat, the dragon could simply belch out a line of smoky fire to buy them some time.

In preparation for this day, the heir had spent the past two weeks with some of the dragons from the dragon safe islands who wanted to accept a rider to get to know them better and warm them up to living with Vikings. Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins also pitched in to spend some time with them, too. There were thirty in total, including Zipplebacks, Gronckles, Nadders, Monstrous Nightmares, and a couple Timberjacks. After speaking with the dragon leaders of the surrounding islands, Hiccup set up days for small groups of these dragons to come visit Berk, where the riders would tour them around the village.

It was a tall order to fill, but if it was possible to get through to these thick-headed Vikings down there at the Thing to send some younger people who have a genuine desire to be friends with dragons, then this could be a big step towards helping the dragons be something other than targets to kill or capture in the eyes of the Vikings.

 _That is, if they don't just give me a bunch of Snotlouts..._

As he went back to his dragon, Hiccup said, "Well, Bud, I think it's safe to say they're past their shouting contest and brawling phase of the meeting. Hopefully shouldn't be too much longer."

A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Before his body language or emotional hum could give away his intent, he quickly spun around and jumped up onto the back of the Night Fury's neck, lunging forward and reaching underneath the dragon's head, trying to scratch the base of his jawline.

Hiccup cackled maniacally and shouted, "I'm gonna getcha!"

 _{Oh, my poor rider, you just bit off more than you can chew.}_

Toothless twisted his neck as he jumped up on his hind legs and thrashed about. Hiccup could tell the dragon was "pulling his punches", so to speak. They had learned a long time ago that if Toothless ever wanted to win a wrestling bout and pin his diminutive rider to the ground, he could, every time. A weak, one-legged boy just couldn't do much against a creature with four legs, a large tail, and a low center of gravity.

Still, Hiccup had become quite the ferret in learning how to twist and jump around. Sometimes, he couldn't tell if he was actually outmaneuvering his dragon or just being allowed such an illusion. In the early days, these wrestling bouts were very one-sided, with Hiccup being slower and more timid and Toothless being so bent on demonstrating his physical prowess. Now, though, it has become a fun little distraction.

Hiccup was thrown to the side and rolled on the ground, coming up into a crouch as Toothless squared against him, weight forward on his front legs, tail waving in the air. This was probably quite foolish with the healing rib and Hiccup knew it, but he didn't care. Besides, the rib wasn't completely broken in the first place, just a hairline crack that stopped hurting after a couple days. After two weeks, it felt fully healed, even though nobody believed him. Toothless insisted all his purring was to thank for that and there was no reason to doubt it.

Hiccup grinned at his dragon, who was playfully waving his rump back and forth.

"Here, kitty kitty."

Toothless gave a bark and lunged forward. Hiccup surprised his dragon by leaping to his right, pushing off of his stump instead of his good right leg. He ducked past a gummy snap of the maw and twisted around to jump on top of the dragon's neck, trying the same move again. This time, Toothless rolled to the side, depositing his rider on the ground. However, Hiccup had a death grip on the dragon's neck and was trying to scratch his knock-out spot at the base of his jawline again.

A paw came down on top of his chest, but he was able to scratch the base of the dragon's jawline an instant longer and a large, black head came crashing down, knocking the air out of him. Resigned to his fate, trapped under a head that weighs as much as he does, Hiccup started to stroke the scaly nose as Toothless woke up a moment later.

"I think we'll call that one a draw, eh Bud?"

Toothless licked his rider's cheek in answer.

"Also, we need to rewrite the rules. Even if I win, you're just like, Ahhhhh, that was relaxing. I, on the other hand, look like I just fought in a war... and lost... and then tripped down the stairs."

The dragon gave his rider another lick for good measure and gently lowered his head to rest on top of his rider's chest again, taking slow, deep breaths. Any wrestling match that ended with such contentment was a win for both rider and dragon. Hiccup closed his eyes and resigned himself to a nap.

"Excuse me, ladies, am I interrupting something?"

His hearts sank as he opened his eyes to see Snotlout dismounting from his crimson dragon. So much for that nap. The two walked over and leaned over the flattened rider with amused looks.

"Tag, you're it, dragon boy. Also, you have slobber on your face."

Hiccup started to pick himself up as his dragon lifted his head. "How'd the Berserker tribe react when they were told their invading fleet was spotted ten whole leagues out? I gather Throst's information was actually accurate?"

Hiccup already had a fairly good idea how things went. While Hookfang didn't know Norse, he did project everything he heard. With his impressive array of sensor lobes, Toothless was able to hear and relay everything to his rider. It was as if Hiccup was there, listening through the Monstrous Nightmare's ears. It didn't take him long to lose interest, though, when the discussion dissolved into a nonstop shouting contest.

Snotlout chuckled. "They turned red, alright. Said it was just some training exercises or something. When we mentioned that this fleet was a paltry forty ships as opposed to their hundred plus they had a few weeks ago and that we couldn't promise our three hundred dragons wouldn't burn them all if they got much closer... well, let's just say they accepted our offer to deliver a message with their seal of authority on it telling them to scoot. When they learned that Astrid and Stormfly were _conveniently_ on the ship just offshore to deliver said message… Man, you shoulda been there. It was priceless!"

Hiccup scrunched his eyebrows. "You know we don't command those dragons, right? We would _never_ ask them to fight our wars for us and, even if we did ask, they simply wouldn't do it."

The burly teen grinned. "Ya ya, but _they_ don't need to know that. Astrid and Storm shadowed them for a bit and told everyone at the Thing that, after receiving the threat, the 'training exercise' fleet turned about and headed towards Berserker island."

"I dunno," said Hiccup grimacing. "It's a lie and we know it."

"Hiccup," Snotlout turned to give a hard stare to his nephew, "This _lie_ bought us some time so we could continue with this Thing instead of fight a battle. How many Vikings and dragons do you think would have died if we did not deceive them?"

Hiccup was stunned. He stood there, holding his cousin's stare before casting his eyes down. This was one of the few times Snotlout ever spoke so seriously and actually seemed intelligent.

"I... I guess you're right."

"Damn straight, I'm right! You don't know how _pissed_ I am that we passed up an opportunity to crack some skulls. Do you know how tempting it is to get you captured by an enemy tribe again so Hookey and I get to annihilate some more? And I really wanted to see Toothless in action again. That takedown was _awesome_ , Mr. T."

Hiccup sighed. Usual Snotlout.

Snotlout said, "Now go preach your lovey dovey shit."

Both teens grinned.

Reaching into his saddlebag, Hiccup grabbed the saddle soap and oil and tossed it to Snotlout. "Something to keep you busy."

Snotlout rolled his eyes as he snatched the airborne items. "I _still_ can't believe I gotta stay up here. I mean, just take Hookfang. He'll drop you and me off and then we'll still be following the 'no more than five members per tribe' rule."

Hiccup leaned against his dragon, patting his shoulder affectionately. "Ya, you just _try_ to hold back Toothless. See what happens. Maybe you'll see that "awesome" takedown from a different angle."

Snotlout actually smiled at that. "Actually, that _would_ be fun. Whaddya say to some friendly sparring, T? No sharp stuff, of course. My speed and warrior prowess against your… adorableness."

Toothless squared against Snotlout and wriggled his rump playfully. Hiccup smacked his dragon's snout. "Not now. Got things to do."

Snotlout threw his hands up in the air. "I mean, I can see how _Toothless_ would count as one of the five, but it's not like _you_ are threatening at all. We can call you plus Toothless one tribe member so I can still be there."

The larger rider looked over to see a rider and his dragon sticking their tongues out at him and rolling their eyes.

"Don't worry," Hiccup said as he saddled his dragon. "No matter how things go down, this shouldn't take long. The 'here's my offer' phase of the meeting is a lot shorter than the shouting contest and brawling phase.

Hiccup looked over at his dragon with a grin as a mischievous idea came to mind. Toothless, sensing what his rider was probably about to do, sent a sideways glare.

"Hey, Toothless, wanna make a flashy entrance?"

"Wait!" Snotlout shouted in alarm. "There's _no_ way you're-"

He was cut off, though, by a loud roar from both Toothless and Hookfang as a one-legged boy and a black dragon dove off the edge of the sea stack.

Snotlout huffed at the edge where Hiccup and Toothless had dropped below.

"Show off!"

Hookfang leveled his head with his rider's and looked at him pointedly.

"Oh, don't you start with me!" Snotlout hefted the saddle soap in his hand. "Now Gimme your saddle."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! One chapter to go.

Also, thanks for the review, 10Blue10. Yeah, that dream Hiccup had was the start of me realizing that dreams could be a fun way to drive plot/character development. Besides, who doesn't wanna see Hiccup put his pacifist ways aside and kick some dragon ass?


	24. Negotiations

**24 - Negotiations**

Hiccup and Toothless glided in over Toothless Tackle island with equal parts excitement and dread. As they angled in to touch down, Hiccup studied the crowd.

 _Everyone staring in shock, amazement, and disbelief? Check._

 _While idly fondling the handles of various swords, axes, and maces? Also, check._

All around were chieftains, heirs, and representatives from almost every tribe in the Barbaric Archipelago. They all stared with mixed expressions of hatred, distrust, greed, and in some cases, hopefulness. There probably wasn't a single person present who hasn't heard stories of the evil Hooligan tribe using their mind control powers to greedily amass a dragon army to take over the world… or something like that. As a result, half the tribal chieftains refused to attend this Thing and sent some expendable heirs and councilmen instead.

Hiccup smiled warmly at them all. All he had to do was convince them to not all rally together to burn Berk to the ground… again… and accept some dragon training on _his_ terms instead of their "gimme now" terms.

Toothless projected an image of his rider with a leg of lamb held over his head, trying to placate a hundred baying wolves.

On the plus side, the past week of rain has transitioned into some beautiful sunshine with scattered clouds. This wasn't just nice, but _necessary_. A grumpy Viking is an unreasonable Viking and rain or sleet would definitely make _anyone_ grumpy.

Toothless hit the ground with his usual pounce, bounce, and trot. They aimed for a little distance away from everyone to avoid spraying pine needles and sand at them. After all, being polite could only help, even with Vikings. Toothless padded over to his fellow Hooligans with Hiccup on his back, giving his customary snarl at anyone who was nervously tugging at their weapons.

It wasn't until now that Hiccup realized just how much of an imposing presence he and Toothless made - well, Toothless, at least. Nobody has seen a Night Fury before. Even though Toothless has grown a little bit over the past couple years, he still wasn't a large dragon by any means. Size wasn't everything, as evidenced by the whispered murmurings and slack-jawed expressions. They recognized a certain grace and tenacity in that black dragon.

To compliment that appearance of a hunter stalking his prey, Toothless wasn't just as haughty as a proud Viking warrior; there was a whole hall full of haughty warriors behind his eyes. He was making an unmistakable statement with every slit-pupiled glare, every stride, every curl of his lips and flick of his wings and tail, that to mess with his rider would be to pick a bad fight with a mean dragon who plays for keeps. He certainly got the desired effect.

 _Leave it up to Toothless to nurture a battle-ready atmosphere._

Honestly, while such a display inspired in Hiccup a wide range of emotions - they needed to be diplomatic here and _not_ start another war - adoration for such loyalty overshadowed everything else.

Gobber slapped his good hand against Toothless' shoulder and said, "Lad, did you really just do what I _think_ you just did?"

Hiccup stifled a chuckle. That leap of faith off the edge of the sea stack within clear view of every Viking here had the desired effect. Toothless had not made any attempt to conceal his ire for his rider's decision to wait until the very last moment to slide back into the saddle, but by the gods, the look on everyone's face as they leveled off and swooped over the beach...

"What?" Hiccup casually shrugged. "I think it made a _good_ impression."

"Riiiiight. Smack 'im, Toothless!"

"Ha!" Hiccup crossed his arms with a smirk on his face. "As if Toothless would ever-" *WHAP!* "OW! Traitor!"

Hiccup idly rubbed his cheek that was just slapped by one of the dragon's sensor fins. He knew he had it coming, though. Toothless always loved their trust falls, but would get anxious for his rider's safety past a certain height.

The rider unhooked his prosthetic foot from the stirrup and was about to slide down when Stoick held up a massive hand and said, "Stay in the saddle. Toothless, you will be his show pony for this meeting. And Hiccup," Stoick placed a hand on the dragon's snout and leaned over close to his son, "It is only because of all the other chiefs here that your rear is not covered in welts right now. I would expect more wisdom from my son."

Toothless chuffed. _{See? I'm not the only one who thinks we cut it close.}_

Hiccup didn't even respond to his dragon. If Stoick had his way, there would be no trust falls. In fact, there would be no fun stunts. Ever. There would only be smooth and level flying to get from one point to another that would put both dragon and rider to sleep in the air.

The rider ended up just sighing and ground out, "Yessir."

"Good!" Stoick took a step back and clapped his hands. "So long as we understand each other. And Toothless, we're trying to convince these people that dragons actually have a brain and maybe even a conscience. Perhaps you can demonstrate that to me next time Hiccup tries to do something stupid like that and you are able to stop him."

Toothless gave some mix between a growl and a groan. The household of haughty Vikings behind his eyes was definitely shouting and clanging their swords together. Hiccup silently projected emphatic praise to his dragon for demonstrating such control with a benign response to an impingement on his dignity. With his new insight into what it was like to be a Night Fury, made available by hearing projected thoughts, Hiccup could appreciate the amount of discipline his dragon was displaying. When it came to pride and a boastful attitude, Toothless made Snotlout look like Fishlegs.

"Dad," Hiccup said in annoyance. "I don't think we're making a good first impression here. Are we trying to convince everyone that dragons are nothing more than horses with wings? I need to stand _by_ him, not sit _on_ him. Please."

Stoick sighed. "Alright, but first sign of trouble, Toothless, and you grab Hiccup and bolt."

Hiccup nervously said, "I'd also like to take the saddle off."

Stoick bristled up at that, as expected, but before he could say anything, Hiccup pressed on, saying, "You've seen the new and improved tailfin. Toothless can fly without a saddle and I've flown bareback before. It will help in the negotiations."

"No, Hiccup. You leave that saddle on."

Gobber leaned over and quietly said, "The lad does have a point, Stoick. It would be rather awkward if someone manages ta use a burning log ta set his saddle on fire or cut it loose with a quick slash of the sword. Kinda makes it hard ta fly, even if the dragon ain't harmed."

Stoick combed his beard with his fingers for a moment. "Alright, but you stay within arms-reach of your dragon at all times. Deal?"

Rider and dragon exchange glances.

"Deal."

Hiccup jumped off his dragon, released the ropes to the tailfin, and unfastened the saddle, letting it slide to the ground. Under his breath, he muttered, "Let's just get this over with and see what flies."

As he took a step forward, Toothless shadowing his side, he scanned the crowd. There were about sixty Vikings in total, all gathered around a sizable bonfire with the Hooligans centered on one side. The burning logs were spread in a row about thirty paces long, oriented in line with the wind so the Vikings on either side didn't get smoked out. Various kettles and pans showed signs of snacking during the Thing. Logs dotted the outside of the fire line to dry off and feed the fire as needed.

Hiccup could feel their eyes boring into him and his dragon. They were all judging, analyzing, ready to lash out at any perceived threat. To his relief, he did not see Alvin or anybody from the Outcast tribe. If there was one tribe with which he would not want to share any knowledge about dragons, it would be them.

Stoick must have already told them a bit about dragons on Berk since nobody was demanding rides on Toothless or to be given a dozen Monstrous Nightmares for the trip home. In fact, Hiccup found himself wondering that they were so calm around Toothless. Hands rested on the pommels of swords and axes, but no weapons were drawn at the moment. This state of peaceful listening sure could not last long.

Raising his voice to be heard, he said, "Greetings. I'm Hiccup. And he," Hiccup gestured to his dragon next to him, "Is Toothless."

Tossing a look over at his father, he said, "You guys already talked about the dragon war and Red Death, right?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup saw someone from the Lava Lout tribe gently kick a log in the stack in front of him. Someone at the other end noticed and the two bent down, hefting it into the fire. A Viking from the Hysteric tribe with sausages impaled on a stick grumbled at the flying embers and shifted over to a better bed of coals.

"Yep," Stoick said. "We told them about you and Toothless, the Red Death, and the dragon raid that repelled the attack a few weeks ago. You just talk about how they can befriend dragons. This meeting here is to discuss what _should_ have been discussed long before anyone launched an invasion."

Someone in his thirties from the Lava Lout tribe shouted, "And how would _we_ know that you would want to share your secrets? We had _every_ reason to suspect you were gathering a dragon army in secret to attack us!"

"You could have asked," Gobber threw in with a light-hearted chuckle. "Ya know... with _words_. It's a thing people do, sometimes."

"And just give you all the more time to acquire _more_ dragons and-"

Spitelout chafed to give his own response and shouted, "Milk-drinker! I'd cut off your testicles if only you had any for such saying something so insipid. We have repelled many fools before, without dragons. And in this last attack on Berk, nine to one, those who died were killed by Hooligans on our own island and not by dragons."

Someone in his late fifties shouted out from the Berserker tribe, "All bark and no bite! Even during the dragon war, Berk has survived only because the dragon raids ground almost all raiding to a halt. Don't pretend to be what you're not. You caught us off-guard last time, but even with your dragons, you are not safe. You may have a dragon army, but that alone cannot protect you. We will-"

Anything else he had to say was lost. Hiccup crouched under his dragon, who shot a fireball straight up into the air. It exploded above with a deafening impact. The shockwave rattled everyone and momentarily blew out the fire until the glowing coals reignited the wood. Curses could be heard as kettles toppled over and sausages fell into the coals.

After a short moment of relative silence, Hiccup said, "If you would like to bicker back and forth forever, then I will leave you to it. Knock yourselves out. But if you want to hear about befriending dragons, then I will speak."

Hiccup held his stern expression, but inwardly pat himself on the back. He has been working on improving his skills in negotiating with Vikings. They're just like dragons; simply be assertive and show that you are not fearful and they will give you some consideration.

Someone else spoke up from the Murderous tribe. "And why should we listen to this little _toothpick_?"

Hiccup was waiting for such an outburst. He smiled innocently. "You raise a very excellent and well thought-out point, Murderous tribe. I am ashamed to say I have no argument to that. I apologize for wasting your time. Goodbye!"

With a leap onto the dragon's back, the duo turned around and was actually surprised nobody said anything until Toothless coiled his haunches and was about to spring into the air.

"WAIT!"

Hiccup took a moment to wipe the grin off his face before turning around again. It was a trick his father taught him. Nothing gets Vikings to listen to you faster than making it clear you have no desire to speak. Asking someone to hear you out is the kiss of death.

As Toothless took a couple slow, measured steps to the fireline again. Hiccup slid down to the ground and asked, "Who said that?"

Silence.

"Speak up," Hiccup chided, enjoying himself far too much.

"Guess I must be hearing things in my old age," Hiccup mumbled, trying to keep the grin off his face. The dragon and rider duo made to turn around, but someone from the Berserker tribe stepped forward toward the fireline. Hiccup was actually surprised it was Throst. Judging by the venomous glares from his fellow Berserkers and the hand on his shoulder that he shook off, he wasn't exactly backed up by his tribe.

Several days ago, after he recovered from whatever drug Dagur had forced down his throat, Hiccup made Toothless spill all the beans and saw what the dragon did to the man. The rider had to admit he was starting to forgive Throst, maybe even like him. However, Toothless was less forgiving and strode right into the fire line, knocking burning logs and embers aside, with wings fanned and his best death glare locked on Throst. The Vikings in front of the dragon stumbled back, retreating from the burning debris scattering from the fire line. Throst's reaction to such a display certainly fit one who was browbeaten and personally threatened by the offspring of lightning and death himself.

Hiccup kicked his dragon's tail and implored him not to start a fight. Toothless just growled as he kneaded the sand and coals with his claws, but did nothing more. It was as good as the rider could hope for. The household of haughty Vikings behind the dragon's eyes was clamoring for blood. It took a great deal of discipline to resist mauling Throst right then and there.

Hiccup said, "One is enough for me, Throst. I can respect that everyone's time is valuable and I wish not to waste it with trifles. If you alone wish to hear what I have to say, perhaps we can discuss more about becoming a dragon rider. _Privately_. How does that sound?"

 _That_ got the desired reaction from every single Viking present. Of course, it was a rhetorical question.

Throst said, "Since… Since we are all here, there is no loss in hearing you out, Hiccup. This is the last item on the agenda to discuss today, so anyone who wishes to leave will miss nothing else and I wish them a safe journey home. For the rest of us, though, perhaps what you have to say can help us appraise this situation."

Of course, not a single person moved from his spot.

Speaking up, Hiccup said, "Very well. If you insist. Let's get on with this."

At a silent instruction, Toothless curled his tail around and used it to sweep aside any burning debris, right down to sand. It was a trick Hiccup had his dragon experiment with, considering the prosthetic tailfin. The key was to sweep the tail to the right so the natural tail fin was leading. As long as the tail flicked back and forth quickly enough, the leather fin was just fine.

With the coast cleared, Hiccup took a few steps forward to stand by his dragon's head. A wing wrapped around his shoulder to provide protection from the flames off to the side. Fortunately, the wind was gentle and hardwood fueled the fire, so after the ash settled down, the air became quite breathable again.

This was the main reason Hiccup wanted to remove the saddle. The dragon's scaly hide was fine, but the leather straps would just burn up. Hiccup knew that if he was going to get cooperation, he would need their respect, so he leaned on his dragon to provide a display of awe to compensate for his own lackluster musculature. Behind him, he could hear Gobber saying to Stoick, "Did your boy really... just..."

Hiccup spoke up as he scanned the crowd from his new position. "In answer to your question, Murderous tribe, I'll tell you why you should listen to this toothpick. To be blunt, I have succeeded where you all have failed. None of you can so much as feed a dragon a fish from your own hand without said dragon trying to take your fingers as well. If you want to see success in this venture, you will heed my advice. If you don't, then you will be left behind while everyone else has dragon riders."

The dark mutterings that arose were stunningly subdued. After a moment of relative silence, Hiccup continued. "I am willing to train people from your tribe to befriend dragons. This training will start two weeks from today and will last two weeks. I will show the dos and don'ts when approaching a dragon to gain his trust. I will impart all the tricks I've learned to deal with dragons that are temperamental and a threat to your tribe. And, of course, I will show how to make saddles and ride them effectively when _or if_ they get a dragon to allow them on his back."

Thuggory, heir to the Meathead tribe, spoke up, saying, "You said _if_ a dragon accepts a rider. How can people call you the dragon master if you can't even tame a dragon to accept a rider? Give me _any_ horse and I can put _anyone_ on its back."

Rider and dragon sneered at the young man. "I have no doubt of that, Thuggory of the Meathead tribe. Horses are strong and stupid and you seem to get along with them quite well."

The heir being addressed fumed, made only worse by the laughter around him.

Hiccup continued, "A dragon isn't a horse. Ever since the dragon war ended, we have been forced to change a lot about how we view dragons as we learn more about them. They are intelligent creatures, not stupid animals." Hiccup glowered at Thuggory, allowing some anger into his voice. "I would not be surprised to discover that Toothless," he affectionately rubbed the side of his dragon's neck, "Is smarter than many people here."

Everyone suddenly burst into shouting, most of it directed at Hiccup. No weapons were drawn yet. At another silent request, Toothless gave a loud, sharp roar. Everyone glowered.

Thuggory drew his sword and said, "You dare insult me? I am an honorable warrior and have slain dragons and will not be mocked by a little whelp. Care to back your statement with your blade?" A quick glance made it apparent that he would easily smear Hiccup all over the ground without even trying.

Toothless snarled. Mogadon, Thuggory's father and chief, smacked him on the back of the head.

Hiccup saw an opportunity and said with an innocent smile, "Well, Thuggory, if that is a formal challenge to Holmgang, then I accept. According to law in both your tribe and mine, since you are the challenger, I pick the weapon and location. I choose unarmed combat and the sacred fight will take place on the top of that sea stack up there." Hiccup pointed to the sea stack off the coast that Snotlout and Hookfang were waiting on. "Also, as declared by law, a champion can fight in my stead since I _am_ a toothpick." Hiccup affectionately slapped Toothless' shoulder. Toothless snorted at Thuggory and curled his lips in a very non-toothless smile. "State your terms if you win."

Thuggory flushed and tersely said, "You can't seriously suggest having your beast fight as your champion and the location is untenable."

The rider smiled innocently. "Perhaps you could show me where the law states such restrictions? It's written down so everyone can read it."

Muttering rippled around as people caught on to the implications. The law never stated, "The champion must be human," or, "The location must be accessible to those who cannot fly." Such details were never considered by their ancestors. He was really splitting hairs, but anyone who knew Hiccup realized they shouldn't have been surprised about that. Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose.

Mogadon leaned down and reproved Thuggory in a hurried whisper. Thuggory scowled and said, "I ain't challenging you, so keep your britches on, kid. You just watch your mouth."

Hiccup said, "I'll admit I went a bit too far, there. However, this does illustrate one example of many regarding just how wholly unprepared our society is to integrate dragons into our tribes. Two years ago, we instantly stuffed hundreds of dragons on our island. Even with hundreds of warriors vouching for the dragons, it almost caused an all-out civil war. This brings me back to my plan for helping people from your tribe befriend dragons. I will accept two people from each tribe, no more. This will allow me to give personal attention to each individual as I'd rather have a few successful students than give lectures to a hundred and say, 'Well, good luck!' Give me youth as they seem to be more comfortable around dragons. The dragons, likewise, are more comfortable around them."

Someone from the Berserker tribe, probably in his late forties or early fifties, shouted, "Why not just tell us what you have to say, right here, right now?"

 _{I don't like that one. Please tell me to kill him!}_

Hiccup didn't even bother responding to his dragon. Instead, he said, "If you made that request a month ago, I probably would have been thrilled to spill _everything_ I knew. However, ever since you kinda took me hostage, drugged me until I couldn't walk straight, and tried to burn Berk to the ground, well... nobody here deserves the knowledge I have to share. I deem you unworthy. All of you."

The enraged chatter from all around started to get too loud. Hiccup held his peace and made a show of inspecting his fingernails and casually scratching his dragon's eye ridges. They would eventually realize he would not continue until they calmed down. Toothless had his sensor lobes flared out in a show of aggression, scanning for any signs of threat, but seemed otherwise fine. He was actually quite pleased with himself when he discovered a little game of using his wings to blow smoke from the fire at the most aggressive Vikings nearby.

"Thank you," Hiccup said when it was relatively quiet again. "I _will_ train the people you send, though, and _they_ can train _you_. But I will not train you directly. I don't trust any of you enough for that."

Again, a cacophony of angry shouting welled up. Some swords were half unsheathed. Toothless tensed up and growled warningly. Hiccup waited, ready to jump up onto his dragon's back if they had to take off right then and there. However, after a moment, the frenzy settled down.

Someone shouted, "Well, you better train them damn well, or-"

"Or what?" Big Bertha bellowed in a loud, baritone voice from where she stood to the left of the Hooligan tribesmen. She crossed her arms and gave a look that could make a man feel foolish and naked. "You'll send another invasion fleet for them to burn up before they even get to land?"

Hiccup suddenly noticed Camicazi standing next to Big Bertha and internally smacked himself for not having noticed her before. On further inspection, there were two large wicker baskets behind her and he could guess what was inside them. Toothless confirmed his suspicion that they housed the two Terrible Terrors she had befriended earlier. The little dragons were already silently arguing about who would be able to filch the most shiny stones, or the largest, or the shiniest. Camicazi noticed Hiccup's stare and returned her own grin with a wink.

Hiccup once again waited for the shouting and muttering to settle down. He had what they wanted. He had power over them and he would not let them twist his arm.

He was not Hiccup the Useless.

He was Hiccup the Grudgingly Tolerated and that made _all_ the difference in the world.

When it was quiet enough to be heard again, he said, "When selecting the two from your tribe, I would recommend you pick those who are naturally curious. A little humility would be a good trait to have and they should have a genuine desire to learn more about dragons. I would go so far as to say if any youth in your tribe admire dragons and are constantly distracted by what you may consider a silly fascination with them, I would pick them.

"Also, one thing to note is that we have two riders who share one Zippleback. They are twins, so I would venture a guess that if you send two people who spend a lot of time together, like a married couple, they are more likely to be chosen by a Zippleback. However. if all you give me is a couple brainless sacks of meat to work with, then don't expect to gain as much as the other tribes."

Hiccup asked his dragon to tell Hookfang, who was waiting on a nearby sea stack, that he and his rider could return. Before the Thing even started, all riders had established some nonverbal way each dragon could tell his or her rider that they were being summoned.

More angry shouting rose up. Toothless tensed, glaring at anyone who started to unsheathe a weapon, but nobody started charging or swinging, yet. The din quieted after a while, though.

"That's it," Hiccup said as he jumped up onto his dragon's back. "Two weeks, send two people here. If they don't return on dragon back, pick them up two weeks later."

"You ain't going _nowhere_ until you tell us how to tame dragons, boy!" A large man from the Lava Lout tribe shouted out.

Hiccup casually leaned forward from his perch on his dragon, affectionately scratching the snout. He stared at the Viking with a deadpan expression. "I strongly disagree, sir. You've heard my offer. Take it or leave it. Goodbye!"

As Toothless stood up to turn around, weapons appeared in hands. Vikings from the Berserker, Lava Lout, and Murderous tribes started charging. Stoick and Gobber shouted for Hiccup to get out of there.

With two powerful sweeps of his wings, Toothless blew smoke, ash, embers, and sand into the air, causing the would-be attackers to stumble backward, blinded and gasping for air. He then spun around and reached the saddle on the beach in a single bound, grabbing it in his mouth.

Stoick slapped the dragon's hindquarters, shouting "Git! We got this. You get out!"

As Toothless launched himself into the air, Hiccup shouted back, "That was rude!"

The duo made the short flight to Berk's ship anchored offshore. After landing, he hastily saddled his dragon and hopped on again. There were some tribesmen from Berk on the ship enjoying the show from afar as even the Hooligans had to follow the rule of no more than five on the island. As with most other tribes, Stoick brought them so he could have a full crew when he would have to row back home upwind. The tribesmen from the other ships that were scattered off the shore were shifting their attention between the Night Fury and the commotion on the island.

Dragon and rider took off, climbing high to see what the situation was like back on the island. Toothless provided his eyesight and, more importantly, that jaw-dropping, formless perception of everyone, where they were, and the general tone of their emotional hum. To Hiccup's surprise, nobody was engaged in all-out warfare. Everyone was collecting back into their tribes, kicking burning logs back into the fire and settling down. Snotlout, who had just landed, had his fingers wrapped around the horn at the tip of Hookfang's snout, calming him down.

Content that his people were safe for now, Hiccup and Toothless flew up to the sea stack overlooking the island. From there, he watched the meeting in seclusion until it ended, which didn't take long. After everyone had taken their dinghies to their ships and started sailing or rowing back home, he got on Toothless to go join his father on his ship.

"Well, Bud, let's see if anything came out of all this."

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* * *

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Stoick spared a glance at his son and his dragon as they dove in from the clouds. His main focus, though, was to keep the tempo of his rowing steady. He and Spitelout were in the back of the skeid and all eyes were on them to keep the tempo of the strokes.

Of course, Stoick could have just flown to the Thing. Working with Hiccup, he went on some flights with Skullcrusher and did his best to hear out all of his son's preaching about treating a dragon as an equal and a friend. The dragon always tried to prod Stoick into riding wherever he needed to go, but the chief was always fixed on doing things the old-fashioned way. Gobber had his dragon, too, and Hookfang could carry Spitelout, but that would not have been diplomatically wise. Encouraging even more envy and strife would only be counterproductive.

"Request permission to land!"

The voice of his son snapped Stoick back to the present.

"Granted. Land at the bow."

Stoick saw the black dragon blur past from behind the ship. He felt the stern rise up in the air a bit before crashing back down into the water.

"Sorry about that," Hiccup shouted over the spraying water. "Landed a bit hard, there."

Gobber snorted. "Hope ya have a good reason for slowing us down, lad. Yer heavy dragon ain't making our rowing any easier or our progress faster."

A draconic snort answered the blacksmith.

"Ya know, Gobs," HIccup taunted, "Toothless says he's not sure what to make of _you_ calling _him_ heavy."

"Ha! At least tell your beast to do something besides just sit there. He can use his wing as an oar."

"Actually, Toothless _is_ contributing. Look."

Stoick stole a glance over his shoulder to see what the fuss was about. The Night Fury was sitting upright at the front of the ship with his right wing extended out toward the stern.

"I'm not sure which one of you to smack for thinking that's helping," Gobber jeered, but to Stoick's experienced ears, his tone of voice suggested he was actually trying to prod the boy to explain his methods.

"Sure he is," Hiccup said. "His wing is acting as a sail. Granted, it's not the largest sail ever, but he's making use of this stiff breeze to push us forward."

"Ya can't push a boat forward with a headwind. It's coming off the blasted bow, lad."

"Well, technically, closer to starboard than bow. With a headwind like this, our sails do nothing. But Toothless has figured out how to get a headwind to push us forward. See? Imagine his torso is the mast and his wing is a sail."

"Ya," said Gobber. "I'm imagining your dragon doesn't know _anything_ about sailing."

"No, Gobber, listen. The wind pushes the sail and the sail pushes the mast. The wind pushes Toothless. He can _feel_ where the wind is pushing him. That makes him a master sailor in my book. We were trying this out in a little dinghy. Gobber, we could sail _into_ the wind. Well, not _straight_ off the bow, but we could make some good progress with the wind coming at an angle from the bow."

"Oh, do tell me more, Mr. Dragon boy. All we need then is some dragons on a boat and our sailing needs are met."

"No," Hiccup dryly said. "We just need to chop half the sail off to sail into the wind. I think that's the key. We could sail directly upwind by just tacking back and forth, using Toothless as a sail. Just imagine if we have a boat with _full_ sail riggings that work the same way!"

Gobber said with a jaunty voice, "Ya, sure. We'll race your dragon boat against a sailboat."

Hiccup bridled with feigned bravado. "I'll make a dragon wing sailboat and then you'll see! You will rue the day you doubted me!"

"I'm quaking in my boots, lad. Now go talk to your father and scoot."

Out of the corner of his eye, Stoick saw his son sit down next to him. "Hey, Dad... Spite... Phlegma... Bucket."

Grunted greetings were squeezed out between strokes of the oars.

"Sorry, Dad. I let things get a little rough back there, during the Thing."

"Nonsense, son!" Stoick said cheerily. "All things considered, ya done good. I'm sure you recognize ways you could have handled them better... things you should not have said."

Hiccup shrunk in on himself. "Ya, I did push them a bit far a couple times."

"Bah. It all turned out well enough. I think they respect you a little more, now. Especially with your dramatic exit. I was all excited about a chance to crack some skulls, but they really disappointed me by filing back into their ranks and settling down."

"Gee," Hiccup said with dry sarcasm. "What... a... loss..."

"Anyway, they agreed. Two tribesmen, two weeks. Do you _really_ have a plan?"

Hiccup perked up. "Yes. Hopefully, they don't send brainless sacks of meat. We have more than a month until the stormy season rolls in, so I think we could just build some shelters and live there for a while. We also have that pair of longhouses on Red Cedar island, nearby. I would teach them basic survival skills that helped me in being a good friend for Toothless... ya know... a rider who can do good deeds for his dragon instead of just demand rides all the time."

"I think that'll be your biggest challenge, son," Stoick said. "Teaching them to respect the creatures we've all been trained to kill. Ya can't take them all to dragon island and save them from the Red Death."

Hiccup grinned over at his father. "That's the thing, though. I think the dragons will meet us halfway, there. As Thuggory said, a good stable master can set any Viking on any horse. But dragons aren't horses. Besides, there's no doubt Camicazi will be at the training and I'm sure she will befriend a dragon. The Bogs will probably send Gretta, too, and I can see her on a Nightmare or Nadder. If all the students see the Burglars succeed..."

"Then jealousy will do the heavy lifting for you. Could work."

"Besides," Hiccup pressed on after an awkward silence, "I'm pretty sure the dragons will find _something_ to like as long as a few tribes manage to find someone who can do more than just hit things. Dragons live simpler lives than us with less complex requirements to be happy, but they can still have needs a rider can fulfill. Take Skullcrusher for example. Do you know why he wanted you to be his rider?"

"I figured you or Tofa put him up to it. No, couldn't have been you since you were unconscious at the time. Musta been Tofa."

"Not even close." Hiccup chuckled. "He respects you."

Hiccup was about to go on, but decided to bite his tongue and wait for his father to say something. However, Stoick just kept rowing and Hiccup kept waiting.

And waiting.

"Uh, Dad, this is the part where you give some sort of response."

"Nah, I'm good, son. Is there more to say?"

"Dad!" Hiccup threw his head back in annoyance. "The _point_ is you can't break a dragon the way you can a horse. The dragon chooses his rider or chooses to have no rider. Skullcrusher saw the way you conduct your life... the way you treat other people and handle trying situations. He saw your mind and your heart and wanted to be more like you. _That_ is why he wanted to be your rider."

Stoick glanced over at his son. "So, what you're saying is there is absolutely no way we'll get more than a few riders out of all of this for our ally tribes."

Hiccup chuckled as he stood up. "Well, let's see if they take my advice and send some good people over. I'm fully convinced that anyone who just wants a dragon to use in battle won't get any cooperation at all. They could see that in a person a league away and would never allow themselves to be used as a war dog. I'll find plenty of activities dragons and riders can do together to build up a strong bond."

"Ha!" Stoick punched his son in the shoulder, sending him reeling into Spitelout, who casually shrugged the boy off. "We'll teach them how to throw bolas and build tail fins first thing. Now get off my ship. I'll see you back at home."

Hiccup sputtered indignantly at that comment as he stumbled back to Toothless. Stoick chuckled to himself as he felt the stern of the boat rise up into the air and settle back into the water from the dragon taking off.

Spitelout looked over at his brother with a grin on his face. "Bolas and tail fins. You little revolutionist, you."

Stoick grinned. "Well, at least we can say I'm giving this whole dragon friendship thing a shot. But if you see me riding Skullcrusher around town like a little pony, you'll know I really lost it and you'd have my permission to elect a new chief."

The whole crew burst out into laughter as they paddled onward toward their home and their strange future. Nobody knew for certain what tomorrow would hold, but with a smile and undaunted heart, with sword and claw, life will surely go on.

The Hooligans and their dragons would always look out for each other.

That's what friends do.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Whew! Done. Thank you for reading! Also, if you took the time to comment or give my story a star, I'd like to thank you with all my heart! There is a lot of talent in this community and I am always grateful to hear any feedback on the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even just checking out the list of favorite stories of those who also favorite mine has led to some inspirational reading adventures.

If you're curious about more stories that have this sorta telepathy stuff, I have some suggestions.

Put down your phone/tablet, head to the library, and take gander for "Chronicles of Pern" (by Anne McCaffrey). It's actually a trilogy (if memory serves) that, aside from rider/dragon telepathy, has some interesting details regarding the social interactions between dragon riders and the, ummm, non-rider muggles.

Back to the comfort of this website, "Hitchups" (by The Antic Repartee) and "To Soar into the Sunset: A Night Fury's Odd Memoir" (by Fjord Mustang) gave me a lot of inspiration for Hiccup, Toothless, what they could do, and the nature of their relationship.

"The Truth is a Shard of Ice" (by Whitefang333) is an interesting HTTYD spinoff, but it has a bit more of a Jedi knight / demigod sorta edge than I personally prefer; It's a well-written good read, especially if you like magical dragons and a story that gives a lot of attention to all the other students in dragon training.

"A Dragon's Gift" (by anhedral), or the short one-shot called "Learning Curve", provides a lot of details on an interesting take on telepathy that I would describe as a sort of gaia-like shared consciousness. The author does a great job of presenting dragons as being as intelligent as us, but still fundamentally different in their values, thought processes, and decision-making. This also has magical demigod dragons, but does a good job of keeping consistent to the movie canon.

10Blue10's "Heart Bound" saga is fun to read and provides an interesting AU from HTTYD 1/2 that follows the main punchline of the plot, but includes some interesting deviations. It also has some pretty interesting telepathy mechanics that are consistent and well thought-out. Instead of wondering what Dues Ex machina will save Hiccup and Toothless this time, the story focuses on the moral and political implications of living/fighting alongside dragons.

But why read all that stuff when you can read more of my stories? 'Cause I'm the bestest… eh heh… well, I had to try.

When I first wrote this story, it was meant to be the one-and-only story to get the writing bug out of my system. It ended up just fanning the flames, instead, so whoops. ;) Anyway, I have a sequel that picks up where this we left off here. While it's nowhere near as terrible as the original version of Dragon Whisperer, I still wanna give it a the same sort of renovation.

I have some ideas for some more HTTYD adventures, but that will have to wait until after this renovation. Until then, I'll be revising Dragons 101. There will be some additions and small modifications, but the changes will be relatively minor. If you wanna join me for the ride, I'd be ecstatic to have your eye and would love to hear what you do and don't like and what you wanna see.

On that note, I'll leave you off with the usual farewell song of almost any special-interest group meeting (with my own unnecessary twist):

I willllll remeeeember yoooouuuu. (doo be dum, dum, dum)  
Will yooouuu remeeeeember meeeee? (doo be dum, dum, dum)  
Don't let your liiiiife, paaaass you byyyyyyyy.  
Get your butt outside, enjoy naaaaatuuuuure.


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